Rebecca (repost & updated)
by acalanto
Summary: AU, canon until S2. A different take on how the events unfolded in the inaugural ball. True and pure Scotch pairing. Rachel does not get shot. She got kidnapped..
1. The Concern of Friends and Family

**Note from the Author's:**

**Happy New Year to you all!**

**Please forgive the delay in updates. To all those readers who sent me those lovely comments of support and asking if I would ever continue this, this one's for you.**

**To all new readers, welcome. Come and stay awhile.**

**The first eight chapters were written with the valuable help of IfUKnewUCouldNotFail. You are an inspiration and you helped me more than I can describe! Thank you!**

**From chapter 9, Rebecca becomes the joint efforts of Acalanto and JOYS of October .Thank you both for your input and for keeping me on track.**

**Disclaimer: We don't own The Last Ship, unfortunately… No profit made…unfortunately. Just for fun, fortunately for everyone! :-D**

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**Chapter 1: The Concern of Friends and Family**

Ashley and Sam were excited to see their father. They did not talk about anything else. On the plane carrying them to St. Louis, they would not stop chattering away.

Since learning of Dr. Scott's tragic death, Jed was preoccupied. He knew that Tom had cared about her more than he had wanted to admit.

"Grandpa, you are not listening." Sam complained.

"Sorry Sammy, look kids, we're here."

The plane getting ready for landing distracted the two for a moment.

It didn't last, of course. Soon they were back to talking a mile a minute.

"Will we stay on the ship?" Asked Sam.

"The ship is in dry dock, silly." Said his sister.

"We will stay in a house, guys. Your father has organized everything, each of you will have your room, and I have explained this to you."

"Can we bring things from the old house?" Sam piped in.

"Sam, what is important here is your father, and our family finally being together again."

"Sure." Replied Sam, though he did not seem convinced.

When the plane finally landed, Tom was there to greet his newly arrived family. He had missed them…and feared for them, so much…

Ashley shouted when she saw her father. Tom bent down and hugged her and then her brother.

"Daddy, are you okay?" Sam asked, an assessing look on his face, quite uncharacteristic for either the boy or his age.

"I am fine Son, don't worry about me, just my old bones." He blew off the question, slightly troubled that his youngest had apparently so quickly looked at him and seen a problem.

Though apparently his answer had satisfied the boy. After a moment he continued enthusiastically. "Dad, we came in a _really_ big plane, and it was all just for _us_! Cool, huh?"

Tom ruffled his son's hair. "Very _cool_, Sammy. C'mon, our car is waiting." Tom indicated for his entire family to follow him.

Two men were waiting in the car.

"Dad, kids, this is Cruz and Wolf." Tom introduced.

Brief pleasantries were exchanged by all. Tom smiled proudly, but sadly, at his children's polite and formal greetings to the two new men…Darien's influence right there.

It wasn't the first time, and Tom knew it wouldn't be the last time, that he would be painfully reminded of his wife's influence...and passing. But at least where _his wife's _loss was concerned, he was choosing, with _some _success, to focus on the positive…on her two greatest creations and legacies that were now back with him where they belonged.

He wished he could attest to such progress in his anguish for another woman…a woman who had _not_ been his wife, or even his lover…but he could not. He remained mired.

The children were still chattering about their trip, their new home, and about the things from their old house. Tom did all the right things; answered their questions, drew Ashley's attention when she pestered her brother, he was patient when he should be, smiled at the right times.

However, Jed wasn't fooled, something was very wrong…and he had known exactly what it was even before landing, he had just not known it would be this bad. Jed continued to study his son carefully during his interaction with his children. It wasn't overt, but when the truth hit him, it hit him like a tone of bricks. His son looked like an empty shell, even worse than their time in Baltimore. His smile never reached his eyes at all…it was all just a complete façade.

It would have been easy to assume that his daughter-in-laws not so long ago demise was the reason for his son's current state, but Jed knew better. He had spoken to his son, seen him over vid chat. Progress had been made since that terrible time of loss. Now what he was witnessing was that it was all gone, _and then some…_

When they got to new house, the children were the first out of the car. Jed tried to stop them, but Tom waved him off, saying it was ok. The two men followed the exuberant children into the house.

Besides the two soldiers who had accompanied them, whom he had noted with satisfaction seemed very alert and at work outside, Jed hadn't see any other security on the perimeter.

The house was one-story, spacious and well lit, the children ran to see their new rooms.

"All the surrounding houses are occupied by crewmembers. This fact increases our security." Tom explained.

The children returned happy.

"I like my green room." Exclaimed Sam.

"Mine is more beautiful, it is blue like the sea." Said Ashley.

"Well, at least we have one more representative of the army in this family." Jed said with a smirk. The joke was old and always caused a response from Tom, but not this time.

"I prefer the Navy, like Dad." Said Ashley, taking her usual part in the old argument.

"You can both do whatever you want when you grow up, of course." Tom smiled indulgently once again, and again the smile did not reach his eyes…

"Can we go outside, Dad? See around the other houses and other places?" Sam asked excitedly.

"I'm afraid I have to get back to work pretty soon, mate." Tom told his son, he saw the disappointment in the boys face. It was far from the first time he had seen disappointment in his children's eyes when his commitments and responsibilities had taken him away from them.

But it hurt more now, because in truth, even without those commitments, Tom didn't feel like the whole person who could be and give them what they needed anyway…he felt like he was faking it…which he was.

Thinking of at least a very temporary solution to the current problem, Tom went and opened the front door and called to Tex who he knew would nearby.

He hadn't exactly lied to his father, Tex did indeed live very nearby and he wasn't exactly officially on duty today…but he also kind of was. The other man had easily identified Tom's particular anxiety about security today, after what happened to Rachel, and with his family's imminent arrival. And he had made it clear that he was going to be 'around' all day today...unofficially, of course.

And he was, the other man took no more than a moment to appear, as if from the ether.

Tom wasn't remotely surprised at the other man's almost instant appearance, and simply made his request. "Tex, can you please take these two for a spin, show them around a bit?" He indicated his children who had joined him.

Tex didn't need to be told twice, helping out was what he was here for, and of course the command _'protect with your life'_ was implicit and didn't need to be given voice.

'Of course. c'mon, I know the coolest places." He reached out to Ashley and Sam and bowed theatrically. "Miss and my lord, I will be your host on this wonderful journey."

The children laughed at Tex's antics, immediately at ease.

Tom was glad that at least his children seemed were happy now.

Once Tex and the children were gone and he and his father were alone for the first time since their reunion, Tom immediately felt his father's eyes on him, and knew he would not be able to return…_escape_…back to work, as quickly as he had hoped.

He would not be able to avoid the questions…the well-meaning concerns. He sighed heavily…weary of it all.

"Are you Ok?"

"The wound is healing well, Dad." Tom replied, _very _deliberately misinterpreting his father's query.

"I am not talking about _**that**_ injury." Jed replied significantly.

"Then what are you talking about, Dad? I have lost many people during this mission; want me to enumerate the names of them all?" Tom's voice was calm, as if reciting well-rehearsed history.

This was not normal, not for his son, Jed thought.

"That is bullshit! _She_ was_ not_ one of your soldiers, Tom." Jed said, raising his voice, absolutely refusing to be put off, as his son was clearly trying to do.

"And so what?" His voice was still erroneously calm. "We are at war. She was a casualty of that war. She is gone, after her kidnapping…they killed her." His voice hitched as if the words had a significantly bitter taste…but at least it was a sign of emotion. "The past is irreversible." He stated with miserable finality.

"You _may_ be able to sell that story to others, but we are talking about _Rachel_. I did not help raise a coward who runs away from his pain like this."

Tom wavered at his father's words.

Jed saw the opening and pressed on. ''Talk to me, Son, _please..."_

Tom took a deep breath, a dark shadow passed through his mind and his eyes took on a far away look. He took so long to answer that Jed thought he wasn't going to.

When he finally did, his voice was so low that the older man had to lean forward to hear him.

"When I think of Darien's death, I imagine her pain, the marks spread over her body, the fever, the delirium, the despair she must have felt at the thought that our children were condemned to death also." His voice grew louder, even more mournful.

"Now I have other images in my head, another woman…_burning_... I wonder if she was aware as the fire began to burn her body. If she screamed for help, if she choked on the smoke, if she died immediately or if her death was slow and agonizing too."

_"Jesus Christ_, Tom…" Jed exclaimed, horrified at his sons thoughts.

"It was _not _your fault, son." He went on to try and alleviate his son's demons.

"Like hell, it wasn't! It was my job to protect her and I failed! They kidnapped her, _from_ _right under my nose_!" His abundant guilt over that particular aspect of events was painfully clear.

"Tom, the only people to blame for what happened are the Immunes, they..." Jed did not get to finish the sentence.

''Oh, you can be sure that I blame them, Dad. **They **_**will**_** pay**!" He ground out sharply.

Tom's gaze could freeze hell. Instinctively Jed backed away. He realized, not for the first time, that his son could be a dangerous and implacable opponent. He would not want to be in the shoes of his son's enemies, not for the world…

Jed didn't know which was worse, the complete lack of any tender emotion or the pure unadulterated hatred that he was witnessing right now.

For Tom, things had always been black or white, right or wrong, good or bad, without any gray area in between. Now Jed was very much afraid that his son had crossed a line that he could not come back from.

Jed worried about that pure hatred he saw in his son's eyes. He was scared witless himself, had lost two children to this virus, and a daughter-in-law, and now he very much feared losing his last child, to an unquenchable lust for revenge.

"Tom, Rachel would not want you to sink into this despair, into a desire only for revenge. Your mother and I created you and your siblings to be better than that!"

"You don't know what Rachel would want, Dad. She's _dead_!" He shouted.

"Who are you angry at, Tom? At the Immunes for causing the accident that killed Rachel or yourself for not being able to talk to her about the two of you while you still had a chance?"

Immediately Jed felt his son begin to shut down, shut off, both physically and emotionally.

"I have to go to work, don't expect me for dinner." His voice was now devoid of all emotion.

"Tom, wait…" Jed tried.

"No! That's enough, Dad!" Upset, Tom slammed the door and left.

In the minutes after Tom left, Jed decided he needed to find a way to help his son. He decided to talk to Mike about it.

When Tex returned with his grandchildren a little while later, he asked the other man to stay with the kids for a while longer. The other man readily agreed, and the children seemed fine with the prolonged arrangement too, having clearly taken a liking to the big man-child.

Jed found Mike in the command center that had been set up to organize the production of the vaccine. The place swarmed with activity, security was tight. The Immunes were dangerous, as evidenced by the kidnapping of Dr. Scott.

"Hey, Mike. Can we talk?"

"Hey, Jed. Good to see you, sure, this way." He indicated the older man to follow him to a private room. "It's good that you and the kids are here now, Tom has been concerned about your safety with you guys being so far away, and...well, maybe now that you're here you can…help him." He finished lamely.

"So you are worried about him, too? God, I've only been here a matter of hours and I can see how bad it is, he hadn't done anything reckless, has he?" The fear in his voice was the fear that the situation might actually be even worse than his initial grave first impressions.

"No, it's nothing like that. People are far more afraid for _his_ wellbeing, not ours. He's still the leader he's always been. He is just acting so calm about the whole situation, cold, really. But it can't last, since she died, it's been like a time bomb or a volcano about to erupt around here. I tried to talk to him, but he refuses, he says it's past...won't say any more than that, but its clearly far from past _for him_." Mike finished his explanation succinctly, his displeasure about the realities in his retelling evident.

"Well, he spoke to me, or rather shouted. He keeps picturing Rachel's body on fire, he wonders if she died quickly, or if she died a slow and agonizing death. I tried to tell him it was not his fault." Jed recited in despair.

"Oh, God! But at least he finally reacted, even if it was screaming. This could really help him relieve some pressure. You made him actually talk about what happened! That's a win! He has been refusing to talk to_ anyone_ for all this time."

"Well, when you put it like that I guess it didn't go too badly then, but I went too far. I tried to make him admit what he felt for Rachel. I tried to make him see that some of the anger he is feeling is because he_ loved_ her."

Mike laughed but it was a hollow laugh. "Jed, you're a brave man. I can't imagine Tom took that very well _at all_."

"No, he didn't. It effectively ended the conversation. He yelled and slammed the door on his way out. Mike, I am worried, this situation is _destroying _him."

"He has not been very vocal lately. Except to give very clipped orders about work, of course. And he has worked to exhaustion. He loves you and the kids, Jed. The crew is important to him, maybe we can use that sense of responsibility that is so ingrained in him, to somehow help him out of this."

"Thank you, Mike, he will need all the help we can offer." Jed was genuinely glad to have a real ally in this, he felt his son would need all the help he could muster for him.

A soldier approached. "Sorry to interrupt you, Sir."

"I'll head back to the house, I left the kids with Tex..."

"Don't worry too much, Jed. We'll find a way to help Tom through this. Maybe we can talk to the Master Chief too, he might have some ideas to help."

Jed smiled a sad smile, nodded and left.

Mike thought of all the dangers that Tom had faced: explosions, gunfire, captivity on the Russian ship, terrorists at Guantanamo, death and shrapnel on the oilrig. Of all those losses and hardships, what was so very different this time? In his heart he already knew the answer and he grieved for his friend to have lost not one but two great loves in so short a time.

Mike took a deep breath and returned to work.


	2. Celebrations Turned Despairs

**Chapter 2: Celebrations Turned Despairs**

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**A few months before**

Someone decided to be generous and open the bar and offer free drinks to everyone. It was time to celebrate, after all these months, watching family and friends die, the nightmare was over, they were free of the virus, thanks to the Navy. They could start to rebuild their lives.

The bar was packed; there was music, drink, some food, but mostly a sense of normalcy, which had been lacking for a long time.

Most people talked about what had happened that morning in the park. Of the presence of Navy soldiers, of the vaccine, they talked about seeing the new President being sworn in, about the party that was held in his honor. Many were still mourning the loss of loved ones, there were some suspicious on the cure, but most people believed in this time was a new beginning.

Two men, however, were only pretending to enjoy the celebration. They drank, chatted, and laughed. But it was all a façade, none of the events of this day did the two men believe were worthy of celebration, quite the contrary. They were in attendance for entirely different and far more nefarious reasons. They determined in their goal to find a way to enter the President's hotel and get their hands on Dr. Scott.

The creator of the cure. A creation that was anathema to their fervent belief in their own absolute accidental superiority.

On the outside they were men who did not arouse suspicion. They were very ordinary looking. They were brothers, same height, same brown hair, and blue eyes. Dressed like most in jeans, shirts, sneakers and jackets. The only thing worthy of note was that one of them had a tattoo on his left wrist, a skull.

"Look at them. Without the vaccine created by that bitch they would all be dead now, we would be the only survivors, and we would walk by the world as gods. They do not deserve to live, they are not chosen."Jason said to the brother.

"After we deliver that bitch to our leader, they will not be able to produce anymore of the vaccine, we can destroy those few survivors and we can take our rightful place. We will rule the world!" Said Nick.

They walked among people, their goal to gather very particular intel, and they did hear one piece of valuable information. One of the girls was saying that her older sister worked as a cleaner at the hotel. The very same hotel that was their target, the new President's hotel.

"Can we join you?" Asked Jason**.**

"Of course." Most of them answered.

There were four men and two women in the group. One of them had been watching Jason and blushed when he looked at her. More precisely the girl who said she had a sister working at the hotel.

Their target clear even before they had made their approach, Nick distracted the others, whileJasonfocused all his attention on the poor young woman whose only crime had been to be unlucky enough to say exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time.

"Hello, what's your name?" Asked Jason with the fakest of endearing smiles, though invisible to a novice like the young woman.

"Maya." The girl replied shyly.

"It's lovely to meet you, Maya, I'm Jason." The charm was being laid on thick.

"Maya," Jasonsuddenly, and belatedly, feigned sadness. "It's a beautiful name. It was my wife's name."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Maya announced, shocked at the news and his sudden change of demeanor.

"My wife and my daughter died from the disease. I think I should have died with them." Jason went on pathetically.

She put her hand on his in a gesture of comfort. "I also lost people I loved. But I am luckier than many. At least I have my sister Sarah and my nephew, Benjie."

"How old is your nephew?" Jason asked with real renewed interest. Too much interest…

"Benjie is six years old, he is adorable." She shared proudly.

"And your sister, she's not here tonight?" He asked looking around. Again, the question was asked with far too much visible interest. Not the amount of interest a virtual stranger would usually show for another virtual strangers specific family situation.

But Maya didn't seem to notice. She was young and despite her endured trails, still wanted to see the best in people. Like many she was hopeful this day marked an end to the terrible existence they had been forced to endure till now. Besides, the man's interest could easily be explained away by the fake interest of many a man after a far more usual and less nefarious thing from a woman in a bar.

It was the sixth sense of an older, more experienced and less easily trusting person that would have blaring alarm bells in a panicked fashion…But Maya was unfortunately none of those things. And right now, in these unfortunate circumstances, that painted a big fat victim label on her forehead.

"No, she is at the hotel where the President is staying tonight, she is working there. My nephew is with a friend, at home." She explained, far too helpfully and totally missing the wide malevolent smile that briefly escaped him with her disclosure that not only was their newly identified ticket to their target already exactly where they wanted her…but the ticket to get that ticket to do exactly what they wanted was clearly identified as well.

Distracted by his own malign thoughts, he did not hear Maya's next words. "Sorry, I was thinking about my daughter, she was also six."Jason said, pretending suffering.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, and here I am chattering nonstop." Maya's anguish was real. She was a good person with genuine empathy for the plight of others. A weakness that Jasonhad already identified and was now exploiting to its full advantage.

"It's okay, it's good to hear you speak." Jason knew how to be charming, or rather how to pretend to be charming, when he wanted, and he happily noted that was working, the little idiot was eating it up.

She smiled at him in empathy, understanding and comfort. He smiled back. His smile was real, though motivated quite differently. He had her. She was his now. She just didn't know it yet.

Things proceeded much the same for a while longer, Jason drawing his helpless victim further and further in. She had to feel comfortable, she could not suspect the trap that was soon to be sprung. It grew late and people around them began to leave.

Eventually Maya too got up and said a genuine goodbye, preparing to leave with her friends.

"It was nice to meet you Jason. I hope we can see each other again." She said with a warm and also shy and hopeful smile.

"I know we will, Maya." And it was very easy for Jason to smile and say the words in return. She didn't know how true those words were, though she would soon be regretting her own.

Everything was working out perfectly. She would unthinkingly lead them to exactly the ammunition they needed to accomplish their goal tonight.

He watched her follow her friends out.

Nick joined him and for a few moments they just waited, then with a shared conspiratorial and malicious smile they went outside and we started to follow the on foot group from a discreet distance.

They had to keep a large distance, after leaving the immediate vicinity of bar the streets were deserted and they would have been easier to spot going in the same direction, but thankfully the lack of proper street lighting meant they were hidden even when they did dare encroach closer. The group was easy to follow, talking a laughing loudly and merrily; as those who had imbibed freely and were in a celebratory state of mind were want to do. After walking for about ten minutes the pair crouched behind a pile of long uncollected garbage cans and large black plastic bags and watched their first target say goodbye to her friends and go into a house alone. The pair smiled at their continuing luck and waited for the remaining group to disappear into the distance.

"What are we going to do?" Nick asked, clearly the follower in their criminal dynamic.

"We take them, the girl and the boy, and if we find anyone else in the house, we kill them." Jason spoke the death sentence without a trace of remorse and actually with some detectable excitement.

They observed for a while longer, then they entered the house and quickly, silently and ruthlessly cut the throats of the two older women they found in the first bedroom.

They found Maya in bed in a room at the end of the house, probably not sleeping yet but with eyes closed and happily relaxed in near sleep. By the way both men ogled her still peaceful form, it was clear they were planning to have their own, more personal, fun with her, once their mission was complete.

Jason grinned nastily, as if at his favorite part in his own self-orcastrated charade. Creeping silently towards her, he placed his hand hard over her mouth in a sudden movement and Maya jerked wide-awake with a sudden start, her eyes wide and terrified but the implacable hand over her mouth preventing her from making the smallest sound.

In the dim light coming from the lit hall, it was clear that Maya recognized Jason almost instantly, her eyes going even wider, if that were possible. But when she also saw the knife he was holding up threateningly, a knife that was dripping with blood, utter terror immobilized her and even her ability to draw air into her lungs seemed to freeze like the ice that had frozen the blood in her veins.

Jason smiled, relishing her clear terror, relishing that he was the cause of it.

"Let's go darling, we have to make a visit to your sister. But first we have to collect your adorable nephew." Jason drawled in menacingly, thoroughly enjoying every moment of her terror. He didn't miss the renewed look of petrified panic on her face at his mention of her nephew, that look was intoxicating to him.

Jason was the one who gave the orders, but his brother was no less terrifying to Maya and she struggled pathetically against the two larger and much stronger men as they forced her up and into the next room where a young boy slept. Their loud arrival immediately woke the young child.

"Aunty Maya?!" Benjie cried in a panic as he was roughly pulled from his bed by one of the strange men.

"We are…we are…going to…visit your mother, Benjie" She answered, trying to calm her nephew in the increasingly seeming hopeless situation. She tried but failed to keep her voice was breaking and tears from falling.

They dragged them out of the house and Jason, taking both their hostages, immobilized and controlled by aid of his superior strength and threatening bloody knife, ordered his brother to hotwire a nearby car.

They were loaded into it, Maya struggling at first but stopping when Jason had removed the bloody knife from her own throat and placed it at her terrified nephews jugular instead. Nickdrove and the ride went too fast. Soon they were outside the hotel.

They ordered Maya to say that she had to talk with her sister, because her nephew had been in an accident.

"Remember dear, I will be right there with you and if you make a single move I don't like, the boy dies…and so will you…eventually." Again, it was Jason that taunted the terrified Maya.

She approached the hotel, the man she now knew to be evil incarnate at her side…and his knife concealed threateningly at her back. Unable to see that she had any other choice, Maya did as she was told and she asked to speak to her sister.

A few minutes later, her sister appeared, clearly surprised to see Maya accompanied by a man she had never seen before.

Sarah began to speak… "What's going on…?" But she was interrupted.

"I killed your friends; your child is with my brother and will die too if you don't do exactly what I say. I need to enter this hotel. Is there an unguarded entry?" Jason spoke softly so as not to be overheard but his words were no less debilitating for Sarah.

Sarah was terrified, she shared shocked and distraught glances with her little sister. Part of her was in an utter panic, but soon the stronger force of the protective mother emerged.

"You have my son, you bastard!" She hissed.

"You son with be dead in minutes if you don't keep your voice down and do what I say. I've already killed your friends, and neither myself of my brother will hesitate to do it again, in fact we will rather enjoy it...when the time comes." Jason warned, running a faux loving hand down Maya's cheek, he threat clear.

Sarah shivered in dread, but remembering the unused disabled entrance, and like her sister seeing no viable recourse but to acquiesce to despicable man…for her son's sake, she quietly and shamefully told him of the largely forgotten entrance.

"Very good girl." Jason spoke condescendingly. "Now find out which room that bitch they call Dr. Scott is in, and open that door for me in half an hour. Half an hour, Bitch, a minute more and your kid dies, and I see any sign you've tattled and your kid dies…understand?" She nodded, tears in her eyes.

Sarah went back inside, trying to hide the fear for her sister and her son.

A thousand scenarios went through her head, if she said something to the soldiers... No... That man would kill her son and her sister. She had no choice here.

Whether a case of luck or extreme misfortune, an opportunity came almost immediately. The daughter of the Judge who had sworn in the new President delivered a dress to be taken to Dr. Scott at once.

Sarah immediately volunteered for the task and was given Dr. Scott's room details. She hurried off with the dress.

Rachel had just returned from meeting with the President; he had informed her that she was forgiven for the death of Niels Sorensen, officially, presented with a presidentially signed pardon and everything. The following day she would be traveling to begin coordinating vaccine production work in other states.

She had conflicting feelings about the situation. She was happy because she was free of the murder charge but sad because this meant she would leave Tom. They had managed to reconnect. Their reconciliation had began when she was changing his bandages, the way he said her name 'Rachel', she had felt she had been forgiven, at least on small level.

And earlier in the park when they were spreading the cure, she felt the intensity of the look Tom had given her, the feeling that there was only the two of them in the entire world.

Rachel did need to give him important information about the vaccine, She decided to also write him a letter and leave it at his door. In the letter, she opened her heart to him. Perhaps this time apart could be beneficial for both of them. She was not blind, she knew he felt something for her, but he was still in mourning for his wife. Tom was a man who would not get involved with a woman while his heart was still with another.

Rachel heard someone knock. She went and opened the door and was met with one of the women that was helping with preparations for the Inaugural ball. She was carrying one black lace dress and high heel shoes.

"Good evening, Dr. Scott. The Judge's daughter sent this dress for you." Rachel was taken aback for a moment as the young woman spoke the words in a huge rush that practically assaulted her when she first opened the door. The woman looked very nervous. Rachel found the notion strange that she could be the reason, but not coming up with another reason she tried to be the younger woman at ease in her presence.

"Oh, just put it on the bed please." She smiled kindly at the ill at ease young woman. And it seemed that another's kind thought at solved one of the trivial problems that had been on her horizon tonight. While she would do it, she knew it wasn't exactly appropriate to attend an inaugural ball dressed in jeans.

Sarah watched the Doctor too. She saw when she had closed an envelope smiling upon her arrival, the smile had been joyful and slightly mischievous, as if keeping a sweet secret just for herself.

This woman, who had apparently achieved the impossible, was also extremely beautiful. She had long brown hair and deep brown eyes, about five foot ten, she would have to be more than thirty, but she didn't look much more.

Sarah had expected an arrogant attitude, after all, she had discovered the cure, but the woman before her now seemed accessible and friendly.

_My God, they will hurt her… kill her even! And I am helping them!_ Sarah thought sadly, in helpless silent panic.

"Sorry, what was your name?" The Doctor asked her.

"S-Sarah." She spoke stiltedly, actually meeting this apparently amazing woman was doing nothing for her resolve, but ever time she waivered she thought about her innocent little boy, and her little sister, and her strength was renewed…but the feat was painful. Everything about her current situation seemed impossible, but asking for help too high a risk to take with the stakes as high as they were. She had lost everything else, she couldn't lose the last of her family. She couldn't.

"Thank you, Sarah." The Doctor smiled at her.

And Sarah felt even worse.

Her control of her emotions wavering, and very much afraid that tears would fall if she uttered so much as a word in response, she instead bowed her head and then practically raced from the Doctor's room.

Rachel was not ignorant of the young woman's strange behavior but could not possibly guess at the true evilness that was the reason for her demeanor.

Rachel was soon distracted from her thoughts when she found a note on her bed that had been placed there along with the dress.

_Dr. Scott, sorry, you asked me to call you Rachel. You seem to be an admirable person, not just to have discovered the cure, but by the humility that shows when you talk about it. I took the liberty of sending this dress for you; I imagine you only have jeans. A nice dress and high heels is far better suited for a presidential party. There is no more fascinating and sensual thing than the way a woman holds herself. However, a woman needs to feel desired and admired, especially if she desires to arouse the interest of someone special._

_I hope am I not presumptuous, I just think you deserve a bit of fun. Sabrina Smith._

Rachel ran her hands over the truly beautiful dress and imagined the Captain's reaction. The time would come and she smiled at the thought. But first, she needed to arrange things for her trip the next day.

Sarah looked at her watch, 20 minutes had passed, she had to rush, she could not be late. The door was far from the exit guarded by the soldiers, she didn't think the soldier knew of it at all.

She sought and found the door hidden behind some boxes, she removed the boxes one by one, taking care not to make any noise. She feared that the door had jammed, after so long without use. She pulled the lock and after a few tries the door gave way.

Upon opening the door, she found the man waiting for her, as she knew he would be, but it was no less unpleasant to see his face again. She was unsurprised to see that he was now alone, but she nonetheless feared for her sister. What if he was lying and he had already… No, she couldn't contemplate that, her darling little boy…

"Which is her room? Take me there!" The man demanded.

She did as he said and they soon arrived in front of the poor doctor's door. Her captor knocked on the door strangely softly after shoving her right in front of the peephole. Dr. Scott opened the door almost immediately.

"Hello, Bitch." And he immediately aimed a gun at Dr. Scott.

The Doctor was clearly shocked, especially to Sarah me with him. She felt so ashamed of her role and almost immediately regretted leading the man here, but was still clueless as to other choices she could have made that had as good a chance of bringing her back her precious baby alive and well.

"Don't make a sound, or I put I bullet in your head." Said Jason**.**

"Come on." He pulled her violently. Rachel looked at the gunman. She did not doubt that he would be able to fulfill his threat. Immunes were dangerous fanatics. And she was doubtless that that was exactly what he was.

Rachel looked for a way to escape. However, the gun pressed into her back left her with no alternative.

He took her to the basement, unfortunately encountering no one in this clearly less used section of the hotel. The young woman who had seemed nervous before, now seemed stuck in shock. She followed meekly at the man's order. Rachel could not quite figure out the other woman's part in the transpiring events. She was eventually shoved out a cluttered exit door and found herself outside the hotel, in an empty parking lot, her captor having escaped with her. The whole time Rachel had watched and waiting for an opening, but the man's finger had not strayed for his trigger, a trigger she believed he would actually enjoy pulling.

The man ordered the other woman to stay, to close and hide the door after their exit. He said that if she opened her mouth, her son and sister would die.

That confirmed what Rachel had suspected, that Sarah was not actually a willing accomplice to this, merely a pawn, now she had her confirmation.

He pulled Rachel through the shadows until they arrived at a car, where there was another man, and a woman and a child. The even younger woman and the child, clearly also hostages, like her, to the other man. The poor child seemed terrified.

When the other man saw them, he leered at her in a way that made Rachel's skin crawl and said. "You did it, Jason."

"You had doubts, brother?" The man that still held a gun to her back responded, arrogantly.

"Let them go, you do not need them now." It may seem arrogant also, but Rachel was sure she was the main target here and as messily as this was shaping up, she really did not want anyone else involved, especially a child.

"Shut up!" Jason shouted and deliberately hit her head hard into the car door as he pushed her into the back seat of the vehicle.

Despite her increasing pain, Rachel managed a challenging look at her captor, which of course only made him even angrier.

"Jason, we need to go, now!" Said a suddenly nervous Nick, glancing around the too empty space behind the hotel. His brother didn't respond but got in the car and Nick immediately gunned the engine and sped them all away.

_Find me, Tom._ Rachel prayed as she felt herself start to feel light headed for the hard blow.

_Find me…_

TBC


	3. Operation Rescue

**Chapter 3: Operation Rescue  
**

**A few months before**

Tom watched his crew and the teenagers singing and having fun. It was nice to see them so relaxed and happy. Things had not been easy lately.

Now he was an Admiral, the President informed him of the change. Tom didn't know if felt comfortable with the situation, not that he doubted his ability, he just didn't like the bureaucracy. He would always rather action, and being in the midst of it.

The change might not be what he _wanted_, but maybe it was what he _needed_. The wound throbbing at his side, a constant reminder, he was no longer young and his family really should be his priority now.

He noted one of the women that had helped in the party preparations, she was serving the President and the Judge. He felt a strange vibe from her, but did not know why. She seemed nervous, tense, she didn't look into anyone's eyes. Tom knew that the presence of soldiers left some civilians uncomfortable; they could be intimidating, even if unintentionally…and it wasn't always unintentional.

"Commodore! Won't you join the party? I bet you know some songs." Tex said as he approached.

"I do not sing, Tex." He replied with finality, though allowing his friend a small grin that spoke of his admiration for the man and his happiness at all they had accomplished together.

"Nonsense, your voice can't be worse than mine." Said Tex.

"At least take a glass of champagne, Captain. I would like to suggest a toast to team work."

"Cheers." He acquiesced, taking a glass.

"Has Rachel already come down?" Tex asked innocently, conversationally.

"How would I know?" Tom replied defensively.

Tex raised his eyebrows with interest at his telling response, though he continued without comment. "The Judge's daughter delivered a black dress _and __heels__."_ Tex confided with a smile. "Not that she isn't a knockout any day of the week, but she will be drop-dead gorgeous in a dress and heels!"

Silently, Tom couldn't agree more, but his relationship, or lack thereof, with Rachel was too complicated to put voice to the thought.

To distract from his thoughts of a certain Doctor, Tom observed again the woman who was serving the President. Every soldier develops instincts that are important to keeping him alive on the battlefield. They are trained to recognize the danger signs that the subconscious picks up on, and these instincts were screaming at him right now.

LSLSLS

Tex liked Rachel, but had already realized a long time ago that the beautiful Doctor only had eyes for the Captain, a Captain who at this moment was frowning, as if seeking an answer to a particularly challenging question.

Tex followed his gaze and saw a woman in her mid to late twenties, blonde hair, petite, serving the people who were with the President.

"What's wrong?" Tex asked, continuing to study the same subject matter that the Captain himself was in an effort to work out for himself what had got the man so concerned in what should have been a lighthearted moment.

"I don't know, maybe we have been at war for so long that I'm paranoid. Seeing more trouble around every corner." Tom answered after a moment of consideration.

Tom had already learned that Tex was actually very observant, and his playfulness lent people the confidence to confide in him.

"Tex, what do you know about that woman?" He indicated the one that Tex had already zeroed in on too.

"Well, I know she was the one who took the dress up for Rachel." Tex answered.

_Rachel!_ Tom's heart froze. That was the answer he had been looking for. _She was late._ It was all starting to add up…and it wasn't adding up well.

The woman was acting suspiciously…she had been in direct contact with Rachel…Rachel was late…_No!_

_Oh God, please let me be being completely paranoid!_

Tex saw when his response clicked with something in the Captain's brain. If it were anyone else, he may even disregarded it, but the sharp instincts of the Captain...

Mike, who had been speaking to somehow not far away, noticed that Tex and the Captain both seemed restless, immediately on alert, he approached.

"Something wrong?" He asked quietly.

"Come with me Mike." Was all Tom said.

"Tex, keep an eye on everything down here. Mike and I are going to look for Rachel."

Tex nodded, but questioned. "Shouldn't we warn the others?"

"Not yet, might be nothing, but don't let that woman out of your sight." Said Tom.

Tom prayed that he was wrong, but during all his years as a soldier, his instincts had saved his life many times. They were impossible to ignore at the point, and frankly not advisable to.

Discreetly, he and Mike took the elevator up to Rachel's floor.

"What's going, Tom?" Mike enquired.

"Take out your gun." Was Tom's only and immediate reply, while taking his own gun from the inside of his own jacket.

"Rachel is late, and there is a woman down there acting suspicious who was the last person to see her." He went on to explain.

"Ok." Was all he said. As a police officer he had learned to value ones instincts. If Tom was saying something was wrong, he believed him.

The two men swept the hall to get to Rachel's room, the first and only clue that something was indeed wrong was the door ajar. They entered the room cautiously and swept it. Rachel was not there. She was gone.

Tom cursed out loud. While signs of trouble might be minimal, they all added up to calamitous for Tom.

Quickly examining the room for any trace of evidence that could indicate Rachel's whereabouts, Mike doing the same, he saw a black dress extended on the bed, a note laying face up on top of it that was a quick glance showed to be merely a note from the Judge's daughter that came along with the dress. Though he did raise his eyebrow at the last sentence of the woman's short note.

Continuing to scan the room, he gaze fell upon another piece of white paper, an envelope sitting on the table, in Rachel's handwriting, he noted his own name. Immediately picking it up and tearing it open, the harsh thought went through his mind that she had deliberately left them, _left him._ That this was her farewell letter to him, that he would never see her again and that was her choice.

It really could be true, the suspicious behavior of the woman downstairs, who had been the last person to see Rachel, could be because she had helped Rachel get out. She would have needed help. She couldn't have just walked out without being noticed. Where the hell were her guards anyway?

Making a complete mess of tearing the envelope open, he was not met with what he had expected…what he had feared. In his hands now he just held a small stack of scientific reports. He vaguely recognized them as what the President had asked him to get from Rachel. He had avoided getting them…well, because he had been avoiding Rachel. Stupid.

Absentmindedly manhandling the sheets of papers back under control and pocketing them.

But of course the realization that this development did not constitute a relief was fast coming. She was still gone. And there, in fact, was no evidence that that had been her choice. There was still the strange behavior of the woman who had last seen her. They had arrived to find her gone and her door left open.

This was enough to act and they needed to act now.

Though for a moment a part of him did briefly despair, the coldest sense of dread descending over him. He knew what their enemies were capable of and he was deathly afraid of what this could mean.

Tom took a deep breath and let his training and experience take over. Right now, Rachel needed the soldier, and that's what he would be. He knew he could not be part of the team that went after her, once the identified the direction to search. He was not fully recovered, not even close, he would be more a liability than help.

Mike saw the despair on his friend's face, though it was quickly replaced by fierce determination.

"Gather everyone one room. The President, the teenagers and the guests, post soldiers to protect them. We need to do the sweep the hotel, post guards at all entries, no one enters or leaves, we have to contact the ship, they may try to rescue their leader." Tom ordered, the Commander…no, _Admiral_, back in control.

In the lobby, the soldiers were getting anxious, working off months and facing danger together, they had learned to identify a situation by their Captain's demeanor. And right now, they could all tell that something was very wrong. Doctor Scotts continued absence had not gone unnoticed either…

Tom began to bark orders as soon as he arrived back in the lobby, all the soldiers rushed to comply.

LSLSLS

Sarah had noticed the change in the atmosphere of the room, all the soldiers were whispering to each other. When the Captain reemerged and started shouting orders, she panicked and tried to leave.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry, dear?" A bearded man asked her, coming to stand directing in front of her, blocking her escape.

Sarah despaired…she knew it was all over for her. The man's intense gaze told her very clearly that she was not invisible any longer. She had been caught. There would be no escape.

_Her family…her baby…_

LSLSLS

A sweep of the hotel and Tom's 'intense questioning' of the woman who had last seen Rachel, a woman who broke down in tears spilling everything almost immediately, unearthed exactly what everyone already knew, Dr. Scott was gone…taken. Though they now knew the woman, Sarah, had indeed helped in her abduction. She has distressingly retold that she had done it because the man had her son and sister also held hostage and were threatening to kill both of them. They did have a description of at least one of the believed to be two kidnappers.

Tom divided the soldiers into teams, to protect the President and the kids, and watch the perimeter of the hotel…_the whole perimeter this time._ While Mike questioned led another team to gather information in the city. He sent two rescue teams and a helicopter to search for Rachel. The teams used the radio to communicate and update information.

One of the city's inhabitants had offered to go along; he knew the area and could be very useful. Tom was reluctant to accept the help, but Elijah was retired military.

They didn't know it then, but Elijah would be very important to the outcome of these events…and not just those confided to this night.

One of the groups consisted of Tex, Green and Burk, and the other group consisted of Wolf, Cruz and Miller, along with a handful of other soldiers.

They found the two women that Sarah had tearfully told them off with their throats cut at Sarah's house. They found the bar they had been at that evening. The people at the bar told them that the kidnappers were not from the area.

The field teams Alpha, Bird and Tiger reported in the new information, Tom updated the President.

One of the larger ground floor rooms was temporarily converted into a place people could stay for the night, some mattresses were brought down, for those that needed them, the children and the elderly, but sleep was the last thing on most peoples mind. It would be a long night. Soldiers guarded the door. After updating all of them, Tom decided to return to command.

One of the few strokes of luck they had had was a couple arriving late for the event had seen a car screech out of the back parking lot of the hotel at exactly the time they now knew Rachel had been taken. The wife had been able to give little in way of a description of the car other than 'silver', but her husband, thankfully a 'car guy', had been able to give a much more thorough description of the vehicle they now knew must have been the one to carry Rachel from the hotel and supposed safety.

Over the last few hours, what had been a nagging pain in his side, had become an excruciating pain. And if he was honest, he had started to feel too hot as well. One of them many things Rachel had told him to watch out for following his injury. Not that he did share that with anyone of course. Rachel's current unknown and highly worrisome wareabouts was enough for Tom to fervently believe that anything going on with him was utterly irrelevant…but his body disagreed. As he was leaving the room, he suddenly felt very lightheaded, the world started spinning for him. He put a hand out on the wall to steady himself.

"Captain, are you all right?" One of the soldiers called.

He tried to say yes, but before he could everything went black and he passed out.

His last thought that he was letting Rachel down. That he could loose her simply because of his own and weakness and failure to stay the course when his actions were truly need. When _she _truly needed him.

LSLSLS

They led the Captain to another room. The doctors found that his stiches had ruptured, and he had a fever.

"We found tire tracks on a parallel road with Elijah's help. The kidnappers do not seem anxious to cover their tracks." Green reported by radio.

"Matches what we know about the immunes, they are arrogant." Answered Mike with disgust

"Elijah says we can use a detour to intercept the kidnappers, sir"

"Okay, the other teams will be informed."

"We will keep you updated, sir. Moving out."

Tom woke up in a bed. Dr. Rios and Mike looking down at him, worried.

"What happened? "Asked the Captain.

"You passed out, Sir. Your wound reopened". Said Rios.

"What news is there about the rescue, Mike?" Tom immediately questioned, seemingly completely uninterested in his own condition.

"At last contact with Green they were making a push to try and intercept the kidnappers."

Tom tried to get up, but was prevented by both Mike and Rios.

"You need to rest, sir"

"I am fine, Doctor."

"No sir, you need to allow time for your body to recover."

"Rios is right Captain; I'll keep you informed about the rescue operation."

Tom knew they were right, he did feel very tired and weak. As soon as his eyes closed he fall asleep. The last thing he thought was that he felt useless. Rachel was out there and he was not doing anything to find her.

"You sedated him!"

"No Commander, he did not eat or sleep properly for several days…and in the aftermath of an, as yet unresolved, serious injury. And the tension of the last few hours made it all the worse. He simply pushed of his body beyond its limits. He has a fever, likely sign of infection at the very least, I will need to do an ultrasound to see if the shrapnel has moved, depending on the outcome of that, I might have to operate tonight."

"He will not like that, not now." Mike stated the obvious.

"I realize that but we cannot put his life at further risk, Commander."

"All right, keep me informed of his condition."

"Yes, sir."

A few minutes later, Green's team spotted the kidnappers car on the road. The forms of two men were visible, and also two women that matched the descriptions of the Sarah's sister, and of course Dr. Scott.

"Rachel is with them?" Tex asked.

"I cannot see their faces, but they seem to be. We have to get closer," Shouted Green.

The chase began. The kidnappers began to shoot at them, but the soldiers could not do so for fear of hitting the hostages.

"We cannot let them get close, they will screw everything up, Jason." Said Nick.

"I have an idea to delay them." Said Jason.

Then he pointed the gun at Maya, leaded over and opened the door and ordered. "Jump!"

"What?" She exclaimed, sparing a terrified glance at the fast moving road mere inches from her.

She hesitated in terror but Jason pushed hard on her shoulder.

Maya fell from the fast moving vehicle.

Shocked at what he had just witnessed, and with practically no time to act, Green barely avoiding hitting the girl on the road but instead lost control of the wheel and slammed into a tree.

Elijah broke his wrist. The rest of the group was lucky, only bruises and abrasions.

Jason smiled manically when he glanced back and saw how well his plan had worked. So mired in his success was he that he failed to see a car parked on the track ahead of him. He swerved and tried to correct but failed spectacularly and the car flipped and rolled several times, a body was thrown out of the vehicle, and the car burst into flames.

While Green make contact by radio to warn of our situation, the others were checking the bodies on the road.

The woman was bleeding profusely from a chest injury, her leg was at an odd angle, and she had a head injury that also bleeding heavily. They did their best to try to help, but knew it was useless.

The other victim was one of the kidnappers. He was badly injured. The skull tattoo at his wrist was visible.

"She dead! You guys killed her! The bitch is dead!" He raved the words as he coughed up blood and moments later he too was dead.

It was Tex that made his way to the burning wreck and with horror gazed upon the highly charred form of the last female occupant of the car… Rachel.

Dr. Scott was dead. They had failed.

"The helicopter is on the way, the other team found the boy, hurt, scared, but alive." Said Green.

"Thanks God! At least some good news." said Burk.

"The Captain passed out, his wound reopened and is infected. And that's not all, the doctors think the shrapnel might have moved, they might need to operate again." Said Green.

"We cannot lose them both, dammit!" Tex was an effective soldier, but was always very humorous, even in the most difficult situations, now he was just steaming with unadulterated rage and it was not as any of them had ever seen the man before. But they all well understood the reason.

The others agreed. The Captain and Dr Scott had started this mission together. They all silently feared the Captain's reaction to this terrible news.

"Dr. Scott lives in every person saved by her vaccine; she lives in all of us." Said Burk.

The Captain's condition worsened and doctors decided it was necessary to operate to remove the shrapnel. For two days, they were afraid he would die. When he was finally stabilized, it was still another three days before he woke, and when he did he was mad as hell.

Upon waking, Tom immediately realized that something was very wrong, the doctors refused to answer any of his questions, just saying he needed to rest.

"I want to see Commander Slattery, now!" He barked.

"Captain, you need your rest."

"What I need is answers, get him now!"

Tom was very much afraid that knew he exactly what everyone's hesitance in answering his questions meant. He knew time had passed, knew Rachel's fate must have been decided by now. With horror he realized that it was not good news that everyone was guarding from him so fiercely. The news was bad, very, very bad, it was the only explanation… Oh, God…

"Get Slattery now! If I have to drag myself to him I will!"

"I'll call him, sir" The nurse relented.

It didn't long for the other man to arrive and when he did his eyes immediately confirmed the worst.

"How?" Tom demanded in a hard tone.

"Tom…"

"How, Commander?" Rage dripping from his every syllable, it was the only emotion he would allow forward right now.

"There was an accident, the car in which she was in caught fire and..."

Tom's face showed unadulterated horror, Mike halted his explanation.

"Captain...Tom…"

"Are you_ sure_?" Tom interrupted.

"She was seen in the car just before the accident…and she was identified by her jewelry that was confirmed by several people as belonging to her…even I recognized it." Mike confirmed sadly.

Mike remembered what the Doctors explanation of how badly burned her body was, how any other forms of identification was utterly impossible. Tom didn't need to here those details.

"Maya and her nephew?" Tom asked blandly, his true emotions already sinking behind an emotionless mask. A defense mechanism.

"They killed Maya, but we found the boy."

Mike hesitated. "Tom, if you want to talk about it?"

"About _what_?" He returned, voice hard.

Mike nearly backed of. "About Dr. Scott…"

"She is dead, Commander, there is nothing to talk about." He spoke with icy finality.

Before Tom's eyes had showed pain, horror, anger… Now there was nothing, they were dead.


	4. Time to say goodbye

**Chapter 4: Time to say goodbye.**

**Present Day**

After the conversation with his father, Tom felt like an idiot. He had spent weeks successfully evading and running away from the well-meaning conversations and his father could make him shout after only a few sentences.

After her death, he did not want to feel, think and especially talk about it. He just wanted to forget. He did not see the accident, but his imagination provided him with every detail in vivid technicolor.

The nightmares began soon after, they were so bad that he was afraid to sleep, began working himself to exhaustion, and then working even more. It was effective, being to tried and busy to even think. Tom ignored the advice of doctors who said he should slow down, that he had undergone surgery and nearly died.

Not for the first time he wondered why her death caused him so much pain. They didn't have a relationship. They had not been lovers. _Because you were a coward._ The voice of his conscience provided.

Maybe that was exactly the reason for his pain. With his wife, with Darien, he had memories, children, a story to put on the shelf of his memory. With her...with Rachel, the name both bitter and sweet, he could only imagine what a life with her would have been like. How he would have hugged her, kissed her without subterfuge, made love to her for the first time. By imagining that beautiful future, the loss of it became all the more painful.

Four weeks, and it was still hard to believe she was gone. He pretended not to notice the worried looks his friends sent his way. Mike, Jeter and Tex were the only ones brave enough to _attempt_ to talk to him.

On the outside he looked fine, the perfect soldier, efficient and in control. Inside there was a war raging between the fire of wrath and the protective ice that numbed his heart. Tom feared loosing the reins of his emotions, because the volcano inside him could blow up and destroy everything in its path.

Now his family was here with him again, his children needed him, he knew it was time to say goodbye to Rachel. Even has his soul rebelled against the thought, his being reverberating in familiar pain.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter he had carried since that tragic day, but had never had the courage to read. He had hurriedly and unwittingly opened it back on that frightful night, his fear at the time that it was her deliberate goodbye letter to him.

Back then he had failed to see what it really was, what had been hiding in the stack of scientific papers that had caused him to write off the entire contents of the envelope as unimportant to his search. And in truth in had been unimportant to his search at that time.

The personal letter that he later found amongst the papers that had hidden it was_ not _her deliberate goodbye letter to him, it was her _accidental_ goodbye letter to him …whatever it actually said.

When he had first discovered it so soon after learning of her death he had not been able to prevent himself from looking away. Hot tears appearing in his eyes as he read her first words to him from the grave. Just that first sentence enough to have him bawling like a child, thankfully he had been alone on that occasion when he has completely failed to control his then fresh grief.

And in all the time since he had not been able to bring himself to return to reading that letter, and yet he had not being able to let it go either, he carried it everywhere with him.

His curiosity and desire to read her last words to him, regardless if they carried anything from affection to infuriation, even though he truly didn't know which would be worse at this point, was no match for his fear of reading them…_or rather them having been read. Past tense._

That state that would exist after he read her last word, the state that would be his entire future, the state where Rachel Scott would never have another word left to say to him so long as he lived. While her last words were unread, it was like she was still alive waiting for them to be realized, but after, even that last whisper of her consciousness would be gone forever.

Irrationally he believing that reading the letter was the same as accepting her death, and facts be damned he just couldn't seem to bring himself to do that. She didn't feel dead, even though the hole in his empty soul seemed to disagree.

But with his children return to him he realized that he could not continue to live as the ghost he had been, _for their sake._ He had to force himself to action, to the first steps of healing. And he knew innately that reading the self forbidden letter in his hand was the first stage of that. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, opened the already torn envelope and with both reverence and will power, began to read.

_**Tom**_

_I decided to call __you__ so because firstly, I consider __you__ a friend. You believ__ed in __me, protected me from some very dangerous__situations__, and in doing so realized how stubborn I am._

_I never liked __to__ depend on anyone emotionally because it scares me__, but__ with you__ it__ happened__ so__ naturally._

_We __made__ a good team, you and me, without your support and encouragement, (Offer__ing me __a Bengal tiger! __Y__ou __sure__ know __how to__ make a girl feel special.) there would be no cure__. W__e disagree__d __sometimes, __but I think that is more__ because we are__ so__ alike in temperament__s__, __as opposed to too different._

_I admire you, __Tom, I really do.__ So I tried to live up to your expectations, but it got me to stretch my limits,__ to push boundaries, __to make wrong decisions. I am not blaming you; I __made the decision__ to kill__ Niels__, my desire for revenge __was part of it I admit, but mainly it was the __guilt that I carry__ over__the deaths of so many that__ made me __take that drastic action.__ The families __the crew… __your__ wife…_

_It__ hurt, hurt a lot, more than I could __have__ imagine__d. __The__ contempt__ and__ disappointment in __your__ eyes when I __admitted to killing Niels__. I tried to tell myself it __did__ not matter, but I was lying._

_War__ has the ability to reveal the good that is in us, but __it__ also brings out our darker side__s__. You have this __strong __moral compass, a__ deep__ desire to do right; it is an important part of who you are. You should never doubt __your__ convictions, __Tom._

_Our relationship has been made of successes, failures, farewells and reunions._

_In my heart, you will always have a special place, not only as a friend, but also perhaps as something else ... if you allow. However, I know you are not ready, yet. That does not stop me from loving you_.

_You are a good man, Thomas Chandler. You have features worthy of admiration, __your__ ability to care for __your__ crew, well beyond the relationship __of C__aptain __and__ soldier, __your __tenacity, __your __talent for__ command, __and your__ love for __your__ family._

_I leave tomorrow. I am hoping that this is not goodbye._

_Take care of yourself._

_Rachel Scott._

_**Oh, God. Rachel!**_

_..that doesn't stop me from loving you…_

_**She loved me!**_

_She wanted more…and now she was gone forever._

Tears fell freely for several long minutes, several loud anguished sobs also escaped. They could not be held within. When he had no more tears to shed, when he had let his grief at all that could have been but would never be overtake him, and run its course, he came out the other side with a very difficult decision made.

_I do not feel like __the good man __you believed me to be__, Rachel, but __to honor__your memory__ I will try __to be…_ and _this is not a final goodbye._

_LSLSLS_

Jed was waiting for Tom when he got home, preoccupied; afraid he would not be able to help.

He watched his son sit as if carrying the world on his shoulders. He looked exhausted, and not just physically.

"The kids?" Tom questioned.

"They're asleep, your friend Tex tired them both out."

"I need to thank him for taking care of them. Caring for Sam and Ashley is my job." He stated sadly.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier, Dad." He continued.

"Don't worry about it, Tom. I know you are still suffering over Rachel."

Tom paused for a long moment, drawing in and releasing a deep resigned breath, then he spoke…

"You're right, Dad." He admitted softly.

"I feel guilty for being in love with Rachel. It has only been a few months since I lost Darien, I feel like I am cheating on her. Though now I feel guilty for _not_ acting on the feelings that I believed might have been returned, and now I have that confirmation that they were. I _love__d_ her, Dad. And she loved me…and now I've lost her too."

There was so much pain in his son's confession, that for a moment, Jed wished Tom was a child and that he could protect him from the world.

"The pain will subside with time, son."

"I know, Dad, but the pain seems excruciating, now. I have been denying her death for a month now. But she it is…_dead…" _The word still hurt to enunciate. "Denying it will not change the facts." He finished sadly.

"What made you change your mind?" Jed wondered aloud.

"You, the children ... and Rachel."

"Rachel?" Jed questioned, confused as to how the cause of his son's anguish could also be the solution to it.

"She left me a letter, Dad." He disclosed the secret that he had literally kept close to his breast for a month now.

"That must have been one hell of a letter!" Jed exclaimed.

Tom nodded. "Rachel says I'm a good man and tells me to keep my convictions. She believes in me. She is always able to tell me when I'm acting like a jerk."

Jed realized that Tom was referring to Rachel as if she were still alive.

"Tom, you keep referring to Rachel in the present tense."

Tom realized his father was right.

"I know, Dad. I can't seem to help it. In my head I know she's gone but in my heart I can't help feeling something very different. I guess I just need time, Dad. _Even more_ time on that score."

"Just remember I'm here for, son." Was all Jed said after a pause. What else could he say?

"Thanks, Dad." Tom's gratitude was genuine. "It's late, Dad. We both need to get some sleep."

"Go ahead, I'm just going to get a glass of water."

Tom nodded. "Night, Dad."

"Night, son."

Jed watched Tom make his way up the stairs and sighed in relief. Thank God! Finally he felt like his son was going to be ok.

Not for the first time in the last month, Tom dreamed of Rachel, but this time was somehow different, _she_ was different, she had shorter hair, like he had never seen her. She called to him…desperately.

_**"Find me, Tom**__**!**__**"**_

"Rachel!" Tom screamed her name as he awoke, answering her call in the darkness. The dream continued to greatly disturb him into his sleepless morning hours. It had felt so real, but aspects of it had been so conflictingly unfamiliar at the same time.

Still, even knowing it could only have been a dream, why could he not discard the notion that she had really called out to him?

That she was really still waiting for him to do what he had failed to do in the first place, rescue her. So large part of him longed for such an impossible second chance. But it was impossible, he reminded himself.

But his dream had been so real…_she_ _had been so real._

…_Find me, Tom…_

The words continued to echo in his waking consciousness, and did not cease when sleep eventually returned to him barely before the dawn.

…_**Find me, Tom…**_

**TBC**


	5. A Light in the Darkness

**Chapter 5: A Light in the Darkness**

**A few months before**

They abandoned the child, saying that the brat had served his purpose. Maya was desperate, she feared that her nephew would be hurt, being abandoned at night in the middle of nowhere all alone. But soon she realized that the fate was the far better of several evils laid out in front of them now, and so ceased to argue her nephews abandonment.

She of course begged to be allowed to go free with him, but it was useless. Here kidnappers seemed to have a very specific reason to continue to keep her captive, and she shuddered at the numerous possibilities her terrified mind helpfully presented her with. For herself she feared it was hopeless, but for her nephew she preyed he would be found by far kinder souls than her captors. At least away from them he might stand a chance.

After two hours they stopped near an abandoned house, there was a woman bound and gagged inside of the house.

"Hello _Lizzy_, did you miss us?" The older brother taunted the terrified woman.

The woman, Elisabeth, was a very similar age, height and build to Rachel. She also had brown eyes and hair like Rachel, though hers was only shoulder length. By way of general attributes they were quite similar, but you'd never mistake them up close.

Still, upon seeing the tethered stranger who bared her similar physical traits, Rachel got an even sicker feeling in the bit of her stomach than the one that had been there since the whole thing started.

Her heart went out to the poor woman, another poor stranger who had been dragged into this _because of her, _she was sure.

Just then, Jason turned and approached Rachel with a knife; He had several knives, and he seemed to have an unhealthy attachment to all of them. He immediately grabbed Rachel by the hair and set about using the sharp blade to ruthlessly cut chunk of it away.

Rachel didn't protest, not only was she sure injury by the hastily moving blade would swiftly follow her movement, but her hair was the least of her worries right now. And right now she was more concerned by the fact that the action seemed to confirm the sick feeling she had gotten when she first entered the room and set eyes on her slight doppleganger.

The evil man who had clearly enjoyed viciously cutting her hair too much, then proceeded to deliberately made a cut on her arm when he was finished. She watched him soak a handkerchief with her blood and put it in his pocket. "Pity that I cannot cut your clothes off too… " He drawled lasciviously, his eyes undressing her up and down.

Rachel knew the man had plans, and the sick interest that was clearly visible in his eyes was clearly not first on his agenda,_ though she'd bet it was on it. _She could tell because he seemed to be restraining his desires…_just. _And he did not strike Rachel as a man to be restrained in his sick and selfish desires _ever_.

Rachel began to understand what they were planning, the handkerchief deliberately stained with her blood and kept was a clue, Elizabeth herself was a bigger one, along with the violent and lacklustre attempt to make there hair also seem the same. And unfortunately, the maniac's next words confirmed Rachel's already dawning suspicions.

"Take your clothes off, Doctor!" Ordered Jason

"There's no way I'll do it!" Answered Rachel stubbornly. Unlike when his eyes were undressing her for purely personal pleasure, a taste of what he planned would come, now he had himself under control and was all about his plan again.

The order to remove her clothes, though terrifying still, had more to do with the continued endeavor to create the terrified strange woman as her. Though that didn't mean the bastard wasn't enjoying every minute of the show he was forcibly directing. Rachel wasn't sure she could obey the order_ and _keep her last meal down, as sickening was the notion of undressing before these evil men was.

The younger brother still held Maya, and Rachel watched as Jason walked over to her and this time put a gun to Maya's head. "Do what I say, or I'll blow her brains out right now." He stated impatiently, as if she were an errant child having the consequences of her misdeeds laid out before her by a cold and harsh parent.

He had already used Maya before, to get her cooperation. Rachel knew she had no alternative but to do as commanded. She had known it before she refused actually, but still the refusal had been instinctual.

Rachel started to slowing strip herself of her garments, she felt so horribly exposed. Tears threatened, but she held them at bay. She would not give these monsters the satisfaction of seeing her cry from the humiliation they were causing her.

She thought about her friends, the people she hoped were still her friends, or would be…_could have been_…one day. She thought about Tom. She thought about how he wound find her, humiliated, abused and…

She forced herself to put all thoughts of such aside. They would not help her get through this, especially with her dignity intact. And those thoughts made heavy sobs threaten mercilessly.

And she darn't even hope that rescue was fast approaching at this time. They had gotten her out of the hotel cleanly, and driven for hours. It would have been hours, at minimum, before an alarm would have been raised. And that was only if her absence at the gala was missed at all. It might easily be assumed that she was too ashamed to show her face at such a prestigious event after her so recent disgrace.

Putting such unhelpful thoughts aside, she continued to obey her captors despicable order. Soon she stood in only in her flimsy bra and panties. At that point Rachel stopped and prayed that she would not be required to disrobe further…_at least yet._ Jason looked at her smiling malevolently, in a way that made Rachel's blood run cold in her veins, but he thankfully _did not _order her to keep going.

_Mercy of infinitely small mercies. _She thought to herself.

During a violent situation, one person may keep their cool; another may panic, while a third might faint. Three different ways to deal with the same situation of intense stress, demonstrating three different temperaments, three different stories and three different lives.

Rachel had experienced difficult situations before, had worked in war zones, these experiences gave her more resilience to deal with her current situation. Not that she wasn't scared of course, on the contrary she was terrified and she knew that this situation was already vastly out of her control. But no good would come of showing and giving her captors the satisfaction of knowing her true deep fear.

What she hated most was the harsh reality that the lives of these other two woman were in danger that she was also helpless to relieve them from, _also because of her._

Maya barely spoke, except when the kidnappers had abandoned her nephew, but every human being had their breaking point, and their captors were pushing Maya particularly close to the edge of hers.

Jason, clearly thoroughly enjoying everything about the current situation, three helpless woman at his non-existent mercies, harshly kissed Maya's on the lips, Maya reacted kicking, scratching, biting, but was restrained quickly and easily.

Rachel could do nothing with Nick pointing a gun at her, and it was like that was exactly the reality that Jason was taunting her with.

Jason untied Elizabeth before forcing her at gunpoint to dress in Rachel's clothes, and even put on all her jewelry.

"Perfect, they will never notice the difference." Said Jason, observing Elizabeth in her new outfit.

"Put that on!"Jason ordered, throwing Rachel a simple cotton dress, the one Elizabeth had been wearing.

Rachel followed that order quickly, overly desperate to be clothed again, and she knew her desperation showed. Though she had barely got the dress over her head when she was shoved into the chair Elizabeth had vacated and tied to it.

No sooner was she secured than each man took a woman each and left. Rachel screamed after them, fruitlessly begging them not to do the no doubt despicable thing they planned to with the two helpless woman who had been caught up in this.

They ignored her, save for laughs and promises to return and have their fun with her later. Left alone and very much _not _wanting to be here when the men returned to fulfil their promise, Rachel visually examined the space she had been left in. It was a small room, there was a table, two chairs, a sofa against the wall, books on a shelf, it was probably once the office of the old house. The place had a very well used feel to it and everything she gazed upon was well worn at best, and quite decrepit and dirty at worst feel about it.

From what she had seen coming in and the fact that all their cries had been met with silence, Rachel was fairly sure there was no one else anywhere nearby, either potential friend or foe. Bad news, no help to be had. Good news, she could be as loud as she wanted getting the hell out of here.

She sought for something that she could use to escape her bonds. She had a gag over her mouth and her hands were tied behind her back, some testing confirmed that the ties had been unfortunately very well executed. She would never pull or struggle herself free.

Then she saw something, a knife sticking out from under the couch, only the handle was visible. It must have fallen when Maya attacked Jason. In her excitement at an actually plan, _bad plan_, but plan nonetheless, Rachel shook the chair from side to side a few times to gather momentum and then used all her weight and force to throw herself and the chair on the floor in the direction of the knife and the means of salvation.

She landed hard. _Very hard. _

_Great!__ Just what I lacked…a concussion._ Rachel thought.

She managed to awkwardly maneuver herself to where she could just grasp the knife. She began to try and use the blade to cut the ropes, but ended up cutting herself just as much in the process. After several attempts, she finally managed to cut the ropes around her hands free, but her wrists were a mess, though thankfully nothing dangerously deep. She quickly used the knife to unbind her legs, they had been bound tightly as well and she had to struggle to get her ankles free. They were not released unscathed either in her struggles but eventually she was free and made her first attempts to try and stand.

She soon realized her self sarcastic diagnosis of a concussion was actually right on the money. Though she could pick which head injury had caused it. The world spun and Rachel cursed. So much energy she had put into unbinding herself that she had thought no further and right now she felt like it was all she could do to keep from hitting the floor again.

She was tired, faint, bleeding and had an unbelievably splitting headache. Rachel barely managed to stand for a few seconds before the world spun, nausea rose and she lost her footing while attempting to stand still. She tripped on a leg of the upturned chair she had just escaped from and fell, hitting her head _again_, on the nearby table. Rachel fought to remain conscious but lost the battle barely before she had begun it.

LSLSLS

The woman woke confused, with a horrible throbbing pain in her head, and the rest of her body not feeling much better. Looking around at the unfamiliar and shabby room she found herself in, she shuddered with dread for a reason she could not name. She felt a deep urgency to leave the place she found herself. Even without knowing the reason for her fear she found herself fleeing the house and venturing headless into the dark unlit night.

Outside she found the faintest silhouettes of many unfamiliar trees, but little else. She really appeared to be in the middle of nowhere, though it was admittedly hard to tell. She had the thought that she risked getting lost, venturing away from the only structure she knew and into the darkness alone, but she quickly discarded the notion of returning.

The seemingly endless blackness was an infinitely better option that returning to the only indoors she remembered…though again she didn't know_ why _that was,_ but know it she did. _So she continued to walk,_ 'away'_ from that place was her only plan, and as fast as she could walk too, not that that was very fast.

She stumbled much, partly for the darkness, and partly for her own imperfect condition.

As she walked she did note that she was not well at all. Her body was injured and abused, her head throbbing to a terribly painful tune, several times she stopped and wretched, her stomach that had held little to start with was empty before long.

Try as she might she could not recall how her body had come to be in such a state, which left questions as to how her _mind had come to also be so lacking…_

After walking for many hours, she was stumbling more often than not. Her legs were tired and weak. She had even more scrapes and bruises from her many impacts with the ground and unseen trees and shrubs. The pain in her head reaching unbearable levels, the wrenching had_ not _helped it, and tears of both pain and desolation were streaking down her cheeks now.

She was getting more and more dizzy, going on was getting more difficult with every step. And yet onwards further was what the remnants of her faculties ordered her to do.

She had to keep going, but she surmised that she needed some rest, had no choice but to rest, but for just a few minutes…

Just a few…

Only a few…

Then she would go on…

She would keep going…

She had to keep going…

Dropping more than sitting, headless of where she was planting herself, she curled herself into a fetal position. Instinctively seeking to preserve her body heat and protect her battered form from further harm. She fell into unconscious, be it to sleep or something else, almost instantly.

Much more time than minutes had passed when she awoke. It was day was the first observation her sluggish mind made, the second was that she was being licked in the face by a large dog.

LSLSLS

"Duke, come back boy, what did you find?"

Jake approached his wayward dog, and was shocked to find him crouched beside a hurt and frightened woman.

Though her legs trembled, he watched as the woman struggled to her feet.

"Easy, I will not hurt you. My name is Jake, what's your name?"

The woman was silent, just staring at him for several long moments. Her attention seemed split, she seemed to be considering herself as much as she was him. Eventually she seemed to come to the decision to answer him, though apparently she had not been able to find the answer she was looking for within herself.

"I…I do not know…I… don't remember." She rubbed her bloody head, confused at her own inability.

Jake pondered the strange woman for only a moment before enacting the only course of action that he could possibly take, given the reality that his morning walk had presented him with.

"Why don't you come with me, Lass? My wife Elena is a nurse, she can take care of you."

She looked at Jake with caution; the dog came over again and licked her hand. He was a chocolate brown Labrador, with soft, intelligent eyes. Instincts had got her as far as they had, and while some might say spending the night sleeping in a ditch was not the wisest course for an injured woman…_or anyone for that matter,_ she…_whoever she was_…was happy with her decision to abandon that horrid place that was the first memory she could actually remember.

Her instinct told her now that she could trust in this dog's owner. She had naught else to go on, besides the seeming genuineness of that man and his kind eyes, so she decided to listen to her instincts. Besides, the throbbing in her head that had returned with a vengeance the moment she had first moved told her that perhaps medical treatment was not such a bad idea.

She nodded her head very gingerly in agreement and slowly they made their way to Jake's house.

When she tired quick, she even allowed the strange man to support her as they walked. She had the thought that she was being too trusting with this strange man, and at a time when she felt it likely than a man had been the one to hurt her to start with…not that she could state her reasoning.

But between her instincts and her very limited number of options, she decided to stick with her decision and hope this man was genuine in his offer to help her…she really did need help right now.

It helped that the dog she already felt an affinity with stayed close by her side the whole journey.

**TBC**


	6. Internal Mazes

**Chapter 6: Internal Mazes**

The woman had no memories of her past, her mind was blank, but she did have a recurring dream. A dream of her…and a man.

The dream always started out the same way, she was alone, in a desolate and icy region, and she was not at all wearing appropriate clothing for it, merely a long black lacey dress. She felt the biting cold that numbed her extremities, she felt the loneliness and fear that she would never see anyone she loved ever again.

Then _he_ would appear in the distance, dressed in a Navy uniform and the landscape suddenly changes into a beautiful garden. In an instant the biting cold turns to splendid warmth and she can feel the softness of the leaves under her bare feet, see a lake of mirror still waters, in which beautiful fluffy clouds were clearly reflected.

She can see it all, but cannot reach it, implicitly trusting the stranger, she follows him to a maze in the center of the garden. He stops at the entrance, his bright blue eyes are like pure fire aimed at her and she feels loved and protected in their gaze. He extends his hand in silent invitation, but her feet cannot move and… the maze opening suddenly closes. Branches intertwining to trap him inside, while she is left outside and alone once more. As her view of him recedes the last thing she sees is his lips moving, she tries desperately to make out his words, but they are barely inaudible to her.

And she wails out loud for the stranger she is losing, having only just found.

Rebecca always wakes feeling alone and always with the same words screaming in her own mind.

_**Find me**_.

LSLSLS

She had that strange dream again. Unlike what was commonplace for dreams, she could always remember the details of the dream, all of them except for one; she can never remember the man's face. But she always very clearly remembers the sense of security and love when he is near.

She knows she will not get back to sleep again, so she decides to get up, she can see through the window the first rays of sun on the horizon, which stream through gaps in clouds. She gets dressed, makes her way downstairs quietly, and goes to the stables. Riding always calms her tumultuous thoughts. On her way, she admires all the new dew droplets watering the grass, she happily breathes in the fresh scent.

As time had passed and her injuries had healed she had come to a level of acceptance with the condition that had not healed, her memory, and she had found herself able, and indeed it necessary, to still find some moments of joy in her seemingly eternally uncertain existence. But it was not always so. Her first days at Jake and Elena's house had passed in a haze of pain and utter despair; her woeful physical condition and her many assumed but unknown terrible experiences and losses enough to have her finding little joy in her painful and forever unfamiliar existence…

LSLSLS

_Flashback_

_"How is she?" Asked Jake worriedly, looking __at __the woman in __the__ bed. Elena had cleaned her wounds and changed __her__ bloody clothes._

_"__She seems__ better, __but that__ head __injuries__ still __worries__ me."_

_"She __wasn__'t…?" He broke off before completing the sentence, not wanting to put voice to the question, but worried about its possibility nonetheless._

_Elena __immediately__ understood what her husband __was asking__. _

_''No, __thank God__! However, __whoever did this to her__ caused __her great__ pain, __she has__ at least __three separate__ injuries to her head. Thankfully none to grievous by themselves, but the combination does worry me. A__nd then there are countless more minor abrasions and bruises all over her body__." __The woman had been with them for__ four days __and in that time__ she __had__ lost and regained consciousness __numerous__ times. Though it couldn't really be said that during any of her conscious moments that she had ever really 'come out of it', on the contrary she had well and truly 'stayed in it'._

_The both turned as suddenly, and yet again, the woman on the bed began to scream. __"No! No!...__ don__'t__ cut me ... __don't __kill me ...find me! please! Find me…"_

_Elena trie__d__ to calm her down, but the wild eyes and posture indicate__d __that she was still stuck __in her__ nightmare and wasn't hearing a word she was saying._

_Jake knew she needed something or someone she could trust, who gave her a sense of security, he remembered the dog __had calmed her before__ and went to get __him. _

_Jake still couldn't believe that the woman he had found had come to be in this house, actually partially under her own steam, though he had been supporting most of her weight by the end of their short journey, she had still walked! But almost immediately upon their arrival and being introduced to his kind faced wife, the mystery woman had taken a turn for the worse._

_His wife had explained that this was possible, even that is was__ good__. His wife always could find the positive in any situation. She explained that the woman had likely been running on adrenaline when he found her. It had allowed her to push on past her grave injuries by means of a base survival mechanism that all people have, and that comes out under such terrible both physical and emotional stress. But upon coming to their home and feeling safe for the first time in who know how long, she had ceased to fight and had thus fallen to the true, previously hidden, nature of her injuries._

_"Hey." He spoke in a soft voice. "Say hello to our guest, Duke." _

_The dog came__ over__ and licked her fingers, slowly her eyes opened, and her vision came into focus. A dogs loveable face appeared and she started to __pat__ the animal __softly, showing herself to be as awake an aware as they had seen her in the last four days._

_Elena smiled at her husband, eminently pleased at their victory._

_"Honey, can you tell me your name?" __Elena questioned, __not for the first time._

_"I …__don't __know, I don't …I can't remember." She said starting to panic…again._

_"Okay, __it's__ fine, __don't__ worry__,__ dear. My name is Elena, this is my husband Jake, and __this is Duke__.." __She introduced, again, not for the first time._

_"Can you tell me a name, any name, __we might call you, dear__?" _

_The woman just stared and searched for several long moments, but eventually she spoke._

_"Rebecca..." She replied hesitantly, __not at all sure why that name had been the first to pop into her mind when she had set about searching, pleading, for any name to come to her._

_"__Ok, we will call__ you Rebecca for now. And who knows? Maybe it really is your name. It was the first to come to you, think about it, there could well be a reason for that. Maybe your memories are not gone at all, just laying a little while beneath the surface waiting for the right time to rise up again." She spoke kindly._

LSLSLS

Rebecca hadn't been at all convinced then and honestly she felt even less optimistic now. Her memories did not feel close, buried beneath a surface she could not breach, they felt nonexistent. But Rebecca had given the seemingly very gentle and caring woman and small nod and smile.

Gradually she had gotten better, her physical wounds at least had slowly healed. Eventually, barely and trace of them was left to be found upon her body, but her mind remained empty of past memories and a prisoner of her nightmares. Nightmares that served as the only clue that she might have had a life before she had awoken in a pool of her own blood.

Jake and Elena had become her good friends through it all. Jake and his expressive grey eyes, his understanding and patience with her. He always seemed to know exactly what she needed. When she woke him in the middle of the night with her nightmares, he would just take her out to the balcony to stargaze. To feel the breeze and listen to the melodic sounds of nocturnal nature. He ensured that she was safe, felt like her real but forgotten enemies would not return... that she was safe with them…he assured her of it, and gradually she came to believe it.

When she was strong enough, Elena had taken her horseback riding. And now, when she had to deal with the frustrations of a life without a past, she would go riding still.

Rebecca was brought back to the present at the sounds of approaching hooves, she smiled; Elena had come looking for her.

LSLSLS

Elena approached Rebecca. She had been with them for just over two months now, her wounds were almost completely healed, but still her memory has not showed the slightest sign of returning to guide her.

Elena knew that Rebecca liked this specific place on the property, a tree next to the river. Elena dismounted and went to sit down beside her. "I thought I would find you here. You're worried again, I can tell, that will not help your recovery, Rebecca."

Elena lived up to what Rebecca had learned was the meaning of her name, the kindness inherent in her shone like a beacon in the darkness. She was a very pretty woman, in her mid fifties with short brown wavy hair and beautifully expressive deep blue eyes.

"I've been here for more than two months and my memory has still not returned, not even close! I still don't have the slightest clue who I am! I don't even know if I was a good or bad person, what if I did something bad to deserve this? What if I never recover my memory?" Rebecca bemoaned in a moment of weakness and self-pity.

"You will remember, Rebecca, you have to believe that, and you are_not_ a bad person, of that I have no doubt. We like you, a lot, Jake and I…and Duke." The dog barked and Elena smiled. "Duke agrees. And all of us, we are all excellent judges of character." Elena smiled serenely at her convenient self compliment.

Elena's husband, Jake, was in his late fifties, a bit taller than his wife, had just as expressive grey eyes and a small scar above his left one. Apparently, according to Elena, he could be as short tempered as a bear in company that was not to his liking. But Rebecca couldn't testify to that, for with her and his wife, he was always been kindness and patience personified.

The nearest evidence that Rebecca had as to Elena's assurances of the existence of the other side of her husbands temperament had been after an unpleasant thumb and hammer incident. And indeed that hammer had caught a fair amount of rage, but none had been directed at the two of them, and it had dissipated fast enough.

"I do love Duke, you have been amazing to me and your husband has been so sweet as well." Rebecca stated with confidence and gratitude.

"Sweet… are you sure that you are talking about my husband? He can be exceptionally stubborn and it is impossible to make him change his mind once he has made it."

Rebecca smiled. "But you love him." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, I love Jake, after all the work I had to conquer him, he will not get rid of me that easy. I practically had to order him into marriage."

Having a front row seat to witness Elena and Jake's adoring and highly enviable relationship over the last several months, it had been impossible for Rebecca to not be left wondering…_hoping_… that someone was out there waiting for her. Someone that would come for her and make her feel a wholeness she could never remember having ever felt. But one that she believes she had witnessed at times when looking upon Jake and Elena's confident love.

Or on her darker days, wondering if that person was already dead…or had never existed in the first place? She wasn't even sure which was worse… It those thoughts and fears that held her concentration far more frequently that she thought they ought. She honestly couldn't begin to rationalize why she held those specific fears, out of the wonderments she could have about her mystery life before the day she woke in so much pain and fear. And yet her nonexistent love life did indeed hold her attention, and frequently, at the very same time, she would be inexplicably reminded of the faceless man of her dream…

Elena saw the sadness in Rebecca's eyes.

"Are you okay, Honey?"

She didn't speak immediately. Needed to pull herself out of her self-pitying remembrances and into the present.

"I had that dream again, but I still can't see his face, remember it when I wake, maybe he's dead…"

"Or maybe he's alive and looking for you. Do not give up! I believe that you have the faith and the hope to continue trying."

Rebecca smiled the warmest smile she could manage in her current tumultuous mindset, she really didn't know if she believed her friend, and even if she did, she wasn't sure how much longer she could go on hoping for what did not come.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Elena. I am so very grateful to you." And that at least was the absolute truth.

"It has been our pleasure, my dear. Now, the day is getting on, let's get us back home or else Jake will come looking for us."

Rebecca smiled and nodded to her friend, a tiny tear escaping the corner of her lashes as her face crinkles slightly. But at least, Rebecca rationalized to herself, she could say that the tear held some small bit of joy within it for the wonderful friends she had found, rather than only the sadness of the perpetual unknown.

TBC


	7. A Visitor

**Chapter 7: A Visitor**

**Present Day**

Jake was back at the house, awaiting the arrival of an old friend he had not seen for months, though he had communicated with the man by radio more recently. First contact had been a reason for celebration, learning that a friend from the old world had survived into the new.

Elena and Rebecca had left earlier, separately, and neither were back yet, and Jake could admit that he was concerned. Not for any good reason, other than that the world was a dangerous place now. And Jake was always infinitely more at ease when both woman were in his sights these days. Speaking of dangerous, he saw someone approaching. He grabbed his gun, just in case, just in case the visitor was not the one that was expected. When the visitor came closer Jake the gun smiled at his old friend.

The man walking towards the house was tall, around sixty years old, with gray hair and green eyes.

"You going to shoot me, Jake?" The visitor asked smiling.

"It's good to see you, old friend." Said Jake.

They embraced in a manly fashion, neither admitting that there was as much emotion and relief behind the action as there really was. They then moved to sit on the porch together and proceeded to catch up on a great deal that had occurred since they had last seen each other.

"You have to live so far away, Jake? We could have done this months before now."

With a broken wrist Elijah could not travel easily in this new world, certainly not long distances. It had delayed this visit greatly. And Jake had been loathed to leave his wife and property, and then Rebecca too, to make the journey himself.

Apart from a genuine desire to see each and catch up, the reason for Elijah's visit was the delivery of vaccines. He could have sent the vaccine with someone else, but he knew Jake would not have liked that. He had maintained radio contact with them, so he knew his friends were okay.

"I like the peace of the countryside, isolation has kept us safe from the disease." Jake stated resolutely.

"I brought the vaccine, Jake." Elijah handed him a small zip case. Jake cautiously unzipped the case and saw that contained within it were two small syringes filled with blue liquid.

Obtaining a few of the newly produced, but old version of the cure, had been the only option for him to bring it to his friends, as neither he nor anyone he knew that might have accompanied him on this little trip were capable of spreading the contagious cure any longer.

"These things safe?" Jake was suspicious of the objects in his hands.

"I took it and I am as healthy as a horse, and most importantly, I'm completely immune to the virus. That's been put to the test many a time at this point." He had in fact become vaccinated by the contagious version of the venerated Dr. Scott's cure, but he had every confidence that this stuff was just as good, had it on many a good friends very good authority.

Jake didn't need to know and become worried by the semantics of it all.

Though Jake did not seem completely convinced anyway.

"Where is Elena?" Elijah knew that his wife could convince him.

"Probably with our guest, Rebecca." Jake answered absently.

"You have a guest?" Elijah asked, surprised.

"Yeah, we found her two months ago. She was very badly injured. Very bad, it was touch and go there for a while…but she's a lot better now, at least physically…"

"What happened to her?"

"We don't know, but she had cuts, grazes, rope marks on her wrists and ankles, her hands and feet were a bloody mess, her hair looked like it had been cut with a butcher's knife, worst of it all were _several _bad head injuries. We considered trying to get her to better help but there was still the threat of the virus and Elena thought it would be too risky in her condition to travel anyway."

Elijah nodded in thought, taking in the information. Torture, he thought…and at least some length of captivity to boot. It seemed this woman was well recovered of her physical injuries now, he hoped the same was true of her doubtless emotional ones.

"How is she going mentally? Torture's not easy for anyone but I can't even imagine a woman going through something as bad as what you're describing. How is she coping with what happened to her? Does she know who did that to her? Does she know why?"

"She doesn't know any of it, doesn't remember any of it, and that's not all…she doesn't even remember her own name…not her real one anyway. Complete amnesia Elena says, due to the head injuries and quite possibly the emotional trauma as well."

"_Really_?" Elijah was shocked by the news, it was more like something you used to see happening all the time on television shows…but rarely to anyone you actually knew of in reality.

"And she's been with you for two months you say? We've talked by radio over than time, you never said anything about her." Elijah was curious about that, this was such shocking news to him as he had thought he and his friend had been staying up to date with each other.

"We had no intention of risking her safety by mentioning her or disclosing her location on an open channel. We _will not_ have her hurt again. Whoever those monsters were that did this to her, they _will not_ get another chance, _I promise __you that_!" Jake ground out his oath.

Wow! Elijah thought, this woman sure aroused a fierce protective instinct of his friend. It couldn't be for the usual reasons; Jake was a very happily married man. It made Elijah all the more eager to meet this real live mystery woman.

"How are things in the city?" It was Jake who changed the subject, probably feeling the need to let his anger cool off a bit. Elijah followed his friend's lead, not disagreeing with the idea.

"Well, the military remain in the city; they decided to make it a base for their operations. They are producing the vaccine and trying to combat the Immunes." Elijah explained.

"You told me about them, idiots who think they're God's chosen!" Utter disgust was evident in Jake's tone.

"If I were them, I would be damn careful…and frankly scared to death. Admiral Thomas Chandler has committed himself to annihilating them off the face of the planet, he made it his personal crusade after they killed Rachel Scott."

"She's the woman who made the cure, right? And that's why they went after her?"

"Yeah, by saving so many people she made it so natural immunes just weren't that special anymore…they didn't like that much."

"Bastards!" Jake exclaimed. Right then and there Jake decided he was no longer so suspicious of the syringes he held in his hand. This fallen woman seemed like a goddamn hero and if she had given her life to give this cure to the world…the least he could do was trust it.

"How did it happen again, a car wreck, right?"

"Yeah, they abducted her right form the hotel where the President and the military have set up shop. This all went down on the very first day they arrived in town, there were still some understandable holes in security at that point, let me tell you, the place is like a fortress now!"

"Abducted her? But she was killed? Things went wrong then?" Jake queried.

Elijah nodded. "Very wrong, we still have no idea why they took her like that. Why they wanted her alive instead of just killing her in the hotel, we'll probably never know for sure. Though knowing what these sadistic bastards are capable of, I'm betting they just wanted to make her suffer longer…to have her under _their _control. In that regard it might be a mercy that she died that night...as opposed to us failing to rescue her from their clutches."

"You were part of the rescue mission?" Elijah was ex-military and knew the region well; it only made sense that he had been part of the search party.

"Yes, I was, but we failed…she didn't deserve to die like that. The soldiers from the James, all the people that knew her and had been with her on her journey for the cure, they were all devastated by her death...they still are, _especially Admiral Chandler_."

Both men sat in silence for a good while. Jake absorbing the horrible, but certain to be historic, events his friend had shared with him. Elijah lost in his own memories and regrets of that tragic night.

Not long later, Elena and Rebecca finally returned. Jake let out a breath he was only half aware he had been holding. He was definitely a lot more comfortable these days when _both_ women were in his constant sight.

"How are you, Elijah?" Elena went to greet her husband's old friend warmly, however, she noticed he was just staring at Rebecca who was at her side, his jaw slightly slack.

Elijah couldn't help but stare fixedly at the woman who had just stepped onto the porch with his good friend's wife.

"Oh my God! It's _**you!**__"_ He exclaimed.

"Elijah, what's wrong? What you're saying? _Wait_…are you saying that you recognize Rebecca?!" Questioned Elena excitedly.

"Yes, I recognize her! _Every_ person who wasn't living completely cut off from modern society would! She is Dr. Rachel Scott!"

"_**What?!**_ But how can that be? You _just_ told me she _died_!" Said Jake, shocked and confused by his friends seemingly certain pronouncement of the famous identity of their long time guest.

"We made a mistake! We must have! It's the only explanation, for I am looking at a very much alive Rachel Scott standing right in front of me at this very moment, I swear it! I need to get back and tell people, I need to tell the Admiral!"

Elijah knew his words must sound more like rants, but he couldn't help it, he was just so excited, so overcome with joy! He personally may not have known Dr. Rachel Scott, but back in town, and many other towns across the country, and even world, the people had taken this amazing woman, their saviour, their beloved martyr, into their hearts. Seeing her standing before him in the flesh was the most surreal experience he could imagine.

LSLSLS

Rebecca was in shock. Throughout the entire revelation she hadn't spoken a word, stunned into silence and lost in her thoughts. It was all just so overwhelming to take in. All this time without her memories, without an identity, and now this strange man was telling her he knew exactly who she was, that she was someone named Rachel Scott…and that she was a _Doctor_ no less! Surely he was wrong, surely she would know? Surely this was the moment that he would say her name, if it was her name, and she would recognize it, and maybe memories that showed the truth of his words would return to her in a flood….but, nothing…

Elijah soon departed, eager to inform his friends of Dr. Scott's miraculous, if still unexplained, survival. Jake would not allow him to share either his news or their location by radio, Elijah agreed but made a very important counter demand, that the other man make sure 'Rebecca' went nowhere before he could return…for he would return _very_ soon, and he _wouldn't_ be alone. Jake agreed.

Later than night, Rebecca…_or Rachel_, lay curled up on her bed shedding silent tears in the darkness. Helplessly tormented by a mixture of anxiety and fear about what she might soon discover about herself.

LSLSLS

As soon as Elijah made it back to town, he headed straight for the Naval Command Centre and asked to speak to Admiral Chandler about a matter of _great_ importance.

"Elijah, how are you? The wrist is healing well I hope?" Said Tom, curious at the man's unexpected and apparently urgent arrival in his office.

"Going fine, recovery takes a bit longer when you get older, but no dramas." Elijah answered absently, his mind an along way from his nearly completely healed wrist.

"That's good." Tom answered appropriately, before getting down to business. He knew this wasn't a social call. "What brings you here today?"

"I went to visit an old friend who lives a fair away from the city… they have a _guest _staying with them…" Elijah smiled brightly, he just couldn't help himself, but of course he only saw confusion in the Admiral's eyes.

Elijah just couldn't hold in his joyous and history making news any longer.

"Admiral, _She's_ _**alive!**_"

"Who?" Tom asked, confused.

"_**Dr. Scott!**_" He exclaimed excitedly.

Tom felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. He could barely hide the agony in his eyes.

"_What?!"_ He asked, shocked.

"I don't pretend to know how this happened, Sir. All I know for certain is that the woman staying with my friends is Dr. Rachel Scott!"

"Impossible!" Tom growled more than spoke. "Rachel _died!"_ He continued miserably, his façade cracking.

Tom did not want to feel hope, it would be too painful when it inevitably came to naught.

"I don't know how this could have happened either, Admiral, but _it's her!_ I've seen that video of her healing the child…_more than once_…most people have. It. Is. Her. And she's alive! I'm sure of it!"

Tom considered Elijah's joy and exuberance at his news. The man seemed _so _sure, it was tempting to allow himself to be infected by that joy…to believe in the miracle he was exuding…but… "If she were _somehow_ alive, Elijah, a very big '_**if**_'…she would have returned to us..." Tom explained sadly.

"She lost her memory! All of it! Gone! She didn't even have the faintest idea who she was until I showed up. My friends have been calling her _Rebecca!"_

"That was Rachel's mother's name…" Tom whispered, almost to himself.

Then, in a flash of sudden movement, Elijah watched the Admiral stand up and run to his office door; there he yelled orders to his aide.

"Martinez! Find Captain Slattery, Tex, Green, Burk and Dr. Milowsky, have them report to me _**now**_!"

"Yes, sir!" The young man answered immediately.

Tom turned back to Elijah, now committed to this path, even if he was still more than half convinced it could only lead to further heartache...and not only for him. Rachel had been beloved...and widely so, even by those who had never even met her. Something that had become excruciatingly clear when the news she had perished had spread.

"Tell me what you know, Elijah, _everything!_" He ordered.

Elijah did, though there was little else for him to add, he had hightailed it back here so quickly after making his amazing discovery. He explained that both Jake and Elena were his long term trusted friends, that his visit had been about bringing the cure to them, and ultimately how he had quite shockingly come face to face with the very much alive woman that so many people knew of so well.

He also explained how 'Rebecca' had been found. The timeline matched up, that was an important piece of evidence. And he gave a brief listing of her injuries, injuries she had since thankfully largely recovered from…at least the_ physical_ ones. He confirmed the amnesia she suffered from appeared to be a severe case, to have lasted so long and leaving her still not able to even recognize her own name when it was spoken.

The worst scenarios passed through Tom's mind, more images to add to his list of nightmares. "How bad were these injuries?"

Elijah sighed, now the other man just seemed to be trying to torture himself, but at least he seemed to be onboard with at least _the possibility_ that his lost woman was indeed miraculously alive…that was what everyone called her, though never in the Admiral's hearing.

"There were _a lot_ of cuts and bruises…" He admitted. "It was clear she had been bound by rope at both her wrists and ankles, her hands and feet were a mess apparently, likely from both breaking free of her bonds and making her way a great distance on bare feet when she escaped…" Elijah cautiously explained.

"But the worst of it was several severe injuries to her head, they were the cause of the greatest fear for her life in the early days after my friends found her, and of course a likely reason for her amnesic state, though I don't think emotional trauma can be discounted as a contributing cause."

Mike was the first to arrive.

"Elijah! How are you?" Mike was surprised to find that the other man was somehow a part of whatever this great emergency was. "Tom, what's going on?"

"Elijah has just come to me and shared his belief that not only does he think Rachel is alive…he also claims to know where she is."

"What?!" "How?!" They all exclaimed in shock.

"Now, can someone explain to me how _and if_ this is even possible?! Mike, you told me a body was found, that it was positively identified as being Rachel…do you still stand by that?"

Mike was shocked almost speechless, but knew better than to keep his friend waiting right now, he looked about at the end of his tether. "Tom, you know we don't have the facilities to make the in depth identifications…especially given the…_condition_…of her body…that would have been possible in the old world. But, she was seen in the car_ just_ before the crash and the fire, the clothing matched, what was left of it… The jewelry recovered was recognized and identified as hers and we_** did**_ manage to get a clean sample of blood from a handkerchief found on the scene and run it…_it matched, Tom_. We were as sure as we could possibly be. We still are as far as I know…what _exactly_ has changed?"

Tom ignored the question and directed his gaze to their remaining resident scientist. "Dr. Milowsky?" He questioned, not even needing to specify that he was directing the very same question at him.

The man keenly felt the anxiety of the room but preceded to share what information he could, none of which was information he had not shared before. "I was the one that ran the DNA from the handkerchief recovered from the scene, I compared it with that of a toothbrush I personally recovered from her hotel room…the test resulted in a positive match."

Milowsky hesitated to continue further, for the most part everyone had tried their best to spare the Admiral from the most gruesome details of Dr. Scott's death, but right now he felt that he had little choice, though he still tried to gloss over the worst of it as much as possible.

God knew, Rachel had merely been his friend and a fellow Scientist he respected immensely, and the examination he had been forced to preform had been hard enough for him! He could only imagine the idea of the Admiral seeing her like that. "I examined her body too…" He began tentatively. "It was _extremely_ badly burned, so much so that it was not viable to retrieve DNA directly from, not with out more basic testing abilities…and as far as dental and medical information, we had none to compare them too, so such clues were useless for identification.

Tom considered both men's explanations again. None of it was new information, but Elijah's arrival and conviction of belief did make him consider it all in a different light. And that light _did_ allow a shadow of doubt to be cast over events…

"Prepare the helicopter. I will have my answer…_one way or the other_…before this day is out! Elijah, you're coming too, give the pilot the coordinates." Ordered Tom, and everyone rushed to obey, just as eager to find the answer now that this shocking question had been asked.

TBC


	8. Two Halves

**Chapter 8:** **Two Halves**

**Present Day**

The helicopter landed and Tom jumped out that very second, anxious to confirm Elijah's information. Scared to death of how he, or any of them, would handle disappointment, not after allowing themselves to actually hope.

From the window, Rebecca saw the arrival of the strangers, four men, all armed. One of the men caught her eye far more than the others. He stood out from the rest, by his aura of authority and trust, everything about the man screamed that he was in charge.

It was an older man and woman who first exited the cabin to greet their party, their countenance nervous even though Tom knew their arrival was not unexpected by these people. He supposed it was possible their arrival in a _helicopter_ had been less expected.

Tom barely managed to keep his patience in check as Elijah introduced them all to his old friends, Elena and Jake Evans. He thought he muttered the appropriate greetings at least half heartedly, but as his gaze was torn to the most exceptionally wondrous vision in existence exiting the cabin, he couldn't be sure of what he had actually said.

_It was her. _

That was all his brain could muster, and it repeated over and over again in his mind._ It was __**her.**_As Rachel slowly walked towards him, her gaze and countenance as timid as he had never seen her, the other people around them ceased to exist.

He had come here for her, and yet he was still shocked speechless by the reality of her standing before him…_alive!_

After having not laid eyes on her for so long, he'd be damned if he was going to look away.

Instead of speaking, something he currently questioned his ability to do, he took her in. Her hair was shorter, just skimming her shoulders, she had a small scar on her left temple, she wore a green blouse and jeans and she was barefoot. Yet another way he had never seen her. Though as he thought about it, he realized he did have a vague memory of her with short hair like this…

_The dream! I knew you were alive! I just knew in my heart that you were alive, Rachel. _

There was a dog standing close to her side; a Labrador. Moving instinctively, Tom took a step forward, but Rachel stepped back, also an instinctive action it would seem if her dear caught in headlight look was any indication.

Rebeca was startled by the intensity she saw the stranger's eyes. He looked at her as if she were the most important person in the world; she also noticed his wedding ring. Was he the man of her dreams? He took another step toward her, but purely on instinct she again recoiled slightly. Fear. Fear of the unknown he represented.

Tom saw the fear in Rachel's eyes. She did not remember them. She was possibly even afraid of him. It hurt, he wanted to run and embrace her and never let her go ever again. But he could not, by the look on her face there was only one way to play this. He had to earn her trust…and her love, all over again. So be it, she was worth it.

With great restraint, Tom extended his hand and politely introduced himself "Thomas Chandler." The polite social action would at least give him the chance to touch her, he reasoned. And also to _make sure_…he didn't know where that thought had come from exactly, but the part of him that still wasn't completely sure he wasn't seeing the most beautiful mirage imaginable, or was lost back in his dream. A dream that had suddenly decided to become much more real.

She hesitated, but eventually returned the greeting. "Rebecca". She said, and she lifted her hand to his…and they met.

"It's a pleasure to meet you…_Rebecca_." Rebecca was aware that he took far longer than necessary to release her hand, but for some reason she allowed it, maybe because she was feeling a flow of electric current through their joined fingers.

"I'd like to introduce you to Green, Tex and Burk."

The three men smiled widely at her. They seemed very happy to see her. In that moment she was almost sure that these men did know her. And it was the strangest thing to realize that if that was true, then they knew her far better than she new herself.

"Rebecca, would it be possible for us to speak privately?" The man who introduced himself as Thomas asked.

She was unsure, but the need for answers and also the strange new need to be near this man answered for her. "Yes…"

"Are you sure, Dear?" Elena asked worriedly.

"I need answers, I'll be fine." Rebecca said more confidently.

The others moved off, leaving the pair alone on the front porch.

Well, alone save a very protective dog. Tom approached cautiously and then stroked the animal. "Looks like you found a protector, Duke, right?"

"Yes, he must like you."

Rebecca sat on the bench, Duke at her feet and Tom followed her lead and sat as well, though he chose the single seat across from her instead of the bench beside her he would have preferred.

Rebecca saw him stiffen as he sat, as if in pain. He saw the question in her eyes.

"Old injury." He explained dismissively.

"If it was old it would not cause you such pain." She reasoned, unsure where this instinct to assure herself of his welfare had come from.

"Touché! Some _injuries_ take longer to heal." He smiled.

And with those words she got the distinct impression that he was not talking about his injury.

"You must have questions." He said.

"How can I be sure I'm the one you lost?"

"You are." He declared with confidence.

"You're so sure?"

"I'm that sure." He declared again with utter resolve.

Rebecca decided to accept his surety, for now, and question that point no further._ He really did seem so sure… _And she did not believe she detected any deceit in the man or his pronouncement.

"Do I have a family?"

"Umm…your parents are dead, and you aren't married, you don't' have any children…" Tom really wished he was sharing better news, only as he spoke did he realize how unappealing the life he was asking her to return to sounded on the surface. He would have to find a way to show her under that surface. "Rebecca was actually your Mother's name. I think you do not have your memories to some degree, maybe you can't access them most of the time, but they are still there."

Rebecca felt a warm sensation in her chest to know that she had chosen her mother's name and her own. Quickly followed by a much colder sensation upon realised that the unknown woman was dead. Still, Rebecca had been the name that had been most familiar to her when she had desperately gone mentally searching for a name.

And of course Rebecca couldn't prevent her desolation at the confirmation of what she had already ascertained from his polite and formal manner towards her.

_He is not my husband… _She wasn't surprised, but still, when she had seen the ring and felt the attraction, she had hoped that that be the way of it. But no, instead he was another woman's husband.

"So no one misses me." She said allowed.

"That's not true! You're part of our family. You have friends, many many friends and even many others who don't even know you but will be delighted to hear that you are alive and safe. " _And me, you have me_, he wanted to say.

It was too painful, she had hoped for so much more only to hear that she had 'friends' The huge let down that was the revelation of her family, or lack thereof, was too painful, so she moved them on. "Who am I? What do I do?"

"Your name is Rachel Scott, _Doctor_ Rachel Scott, you're a virologist. You found the cure for the disease that devastated the world. You worked on the Nathan James, the ship I commanded.

"We were allies, then." She absorbed the information.

_We will be more than_ that, Tom thought.

"Yes, my job was to protect you so that you could develop the cure. You were the brains and I was the brawn."

And for the first time she did doubt his words, though she thought the lie was more self effacing, rather than nefarious in nature. No one came to the position he occupied who wasn't intelligent and skilled in their field.

Tom saw her skepticism, he figured it was regarding her saving the world. Little did he know she was far more interested, at the present moment, _in him_, and a lot less so in herself or the rest of the world.

"You are one of the best in your field, no, I take back what I said; you are _the best_ in your field."

"Probably because everyone else is dead."

"Rachel ... sorry, _Rebecca_…" It was hard for him to look into her beautiful eyes and call her by any other name than the name he had come to love for its connection to the woman he loved. "There are millions of people across this globe who owe their lives to you, _Rebecca_. Starting with me, my family, the crew of my ship, and the citizens of St. Louis. I can get you testimonials from all of those people, if you won't believe me."

"_Millions _of testimonials?" She was more than a little skeptical of his claim and she thought her tone easily conveyed that, but he didn't bite, just proceeded to answer her question completely seriously.

"I commanded more than two hundred men and women on the ship you basically commandeered on your personal crusade to save the world. Your mission to bring the cure to the world, a mission the men and woman on my vessel watched you rigorously pursue and then achieve. You could start with them." She realized he really was serious.

The woman of whom he spoke of, he spoke of with admiration, respect and something else Rebecca could not quite identify. She did not know if she could live in the shadow of this person…this apparently miraculous person this man somehow believed her to be. Rebecca didn't even know the man in front of her, but she already did not want to disappoint him.

"You want me to come back with you." Rebecca surmised. It was far more a statement that a question, but Tom answered her nonetheless.

"Yes, it is safer for you." He spoke emphatically. He did not even want to imagine the terrible possibility of having to leave her again having only just found her. Even the idea of her leaving his sight for a moment was less than palatable to his somersaulting stomach.

"I've been here for over two months, nothing has happened to me, no one has come." It was probably no mystery to either of them the type of people who might come, the ones that had so grievously injured her to start with.

Part of Rebecca wanted to ask him about them, about what he knew of what had been done to her and by whom and why. But she was scared, a large part of her did not want to hear his answers. That part of her was only too happy for that particular time from her forgotten history to stay exactly that way. She reasoned, she was not at all sure she wanted to give up the small amount of familiarity and safety she had been lucky enough to find in a world that was wholly unfamiliar to her and she knew, also very unsafe.

"Only because everybody thought that you were_ dead_, I'm afraid it might already be too late to keep this news from getting out. It is the biggest news since you created the cure, since you were killed! In fact, pretty much all the biggest news items of recent times have centered around _you!_ There is just no possibly that your return from the dead can be ignored. Rachel, sorry…_Rebecca_…the woman I know would want answers, would want her life back, would want to continue to fulfil her mission, continue to help people, and Rebecca…just knowledge of your survival, seeing you alive again, that gift alone with help and give hope to so many people."

His speech did absolutely nothing to allay her concerns, in fact, she was now more sure than ever that there was simply no way that she, _Rebecca_, could possibly fill the shoes of the woman all these people seemed to desperately believe her to be.

She was afraid, deathly afraid that there was literally no chance she could meet their expectations and therefore absolutely no reason for her to leave the safety of the warm cocoon of caring and love she had been gifted here in this place. She answered him stubbornly, unknowingly giving him a large glimpse into _'his' _Rachel.

"Well I don't believe you. I don't believe I was or could possibly fill the shoes of this woman you are describing. You say this woman died. I think that is the real truth of the matter…regardless if the reality is the I now inhabit her body…she is still dead and gone. For I am not, nor will I ever again be, _her_. It sounds like you are looking for a saint, Thomas Chandler, I suggest you look elsewhere for I am not who and what you are looking for."

Tom struggled to maintain his frustration and his anger, despite her entire countenance having shifted to the very familiar sometimes opponent he had oft battled with most enjoyably during their long and trying mission together. "Denying the truth will not change who you are. _You are Doctor Rachel Scott_!" He said decisively, no longer able to continue the charade of calling her the name that did nothing now but allow her to hide from who she truly was.

Rebecca lost her temper and began shouting, it was doubtless that it was fear that was motivating her anger. But fear, especially for one in her unique position, was an eminently powerful force. "My name is _Rebecca!_ I don't know you or your friends, and I am not going_ back!"_ She yelled, emphasizing the last word.

Duke was becoming restless at her side, easily picking up on his mistresses distress, even before the volume of her voice rose, he had started to eye Tom more as an opponent rather than the friend of his humans he had originally been introduced as.

Tom lost his temper too, they were screaming at each other now. "Exactly! _Back,_ Rachel!_** Back!**_ Even your subconscious acknowledges that _back_ with me is where you came from originally! _Rachel, __**please!**_ We thought you were dead. It's been over two months! We thought you had burned to death horribly in that accident, we buried you, or we thought we had." _I'll find out how they made this_ _mistake! He silently promised himself. _"You simply _cannot_ stay here any longer, you _will not_ stay here any longer, it's just not safe for you."

Rebecca was now boiling with anger. Anger aimed squarely at the demanding and self righteous man in front of her. "Who do you think you are?"

"God! Why do you always have to be _so stubborn, _Rachel?" He ran an exasperated hand through his silver hair.

"I'm stubborn? You're the one who waltzes in here, _a perfect stranger to me_, and demands that I have no other choice than to do exactly what you say!"

LSLSLS

Those who had left them alone earlier, still easily heard every shouted word of the increasingly intense debate.

Jake wanted to interfere, but with confusion noticed that the soldiers were barely suppressing laughs, as if the situation was extremely comical to them, pleasantly nostalgic even.

Burk was the first to notice the other mans distress at what they were hearing. "You don't have to worry, sir, the Admiral would never hurt Dr. Scott."

Green continued to explain. "They often argue, Sir, it is a common behavior for them. They are actually very close and trust and care about each other deeply, it is just that they are both...umm…"

"Stubborn as mules!" Tex provided, having no problem saying the words that Green could not pronounce, not when talking about a superior officer…or a highly respected friend and lady.

"Don't worry," Tex continued, smiling. "If he really gets her going it will be him that needs our protection, not her."

Elijah could see that his old friend was not completely put at ease by these strangers reassurances. "Don't worry, Jake. Thomas Chandler is a good man." Elijah said simply.

Elijah could see that the venerated and previously parentless Dr. Rachel Scott had collected a new set of parental figures during her absence from them. And he had the thought that Admiral Chandler had better watch his back. He could easily see that his friends could become some pretty damn fierce opponents if they thought anyone was hurting their newly adopted little chick.

Elena saw the way the Admiral had looked at their Rebecca, it was the look of a man who had had his greatest wish fulfilled. To have his lost love miraculously returned to him. And his soldiers spoke of him with respect and admiration. To begin with, that was enough for Elena to decide to support this man in his attempts to reclaim what was just within his grasps, but also just out of reach.

"You care about her." She stated, to no anyone in particular, but all these strange men combined.

"Yes, ma'am, she is part of our family." Green answered, the others shared agreements and similar sentiments.

LSLSLS

Tom watched Rachel ... angry, defiant, stubborn, her eyes shining. She was ready to fight. God, she was beautiful! No words could express how happy he was to see her like that again. Obviously he would enjoy it if she were not angry at him too, he longer to hold her in his arms again, but right now he would take what he could get. And there was certainly plenty about her current demeanour that offered him fond remembrances of what he had come to love about this woman.

Rebecca was ready to hit this stupid, stupid, arrogant man...but a strange thing happened, he started smiling at her. The sweetest smile spread across his face, and she instantly forgot her rage. And for some reason his smile left her weak at the knees and made her heart start to beat faster in the chest.

"What's funny? She asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, Rachel. Sometimes we disagree, sometimes we fight, we can both be very stubborn when we think we are right. This is just like old times for me, some very fondly remembered old times." It was time for a more diplomatic approach. Tom thought.

"I thought we were allies." She questioned, still suspicious of the sudden change in him, and the treasonous reaction of her body to that change.

"Just because we have disagreed in the past, _heatedly_, does not automatically mean we are not allies. Quite the contrary, it only means that we have had different points of view at times in the past…and have shared them with each other…_passionately_." He spoke that last word with a heat that communicated that she was free to interrupt them a more primal way as well.

"Doesn't sound like a very feasible alliance. I get the feeling that you do not like to lose an argument."

"You're right, I don't, but neither do you. In fact, I would have to say that we are quite equally matched in the area of our fervour for what we believe in. You have always been most worthy an opponent in our heated debates…for those short times when we were at odds that is. But that was not the way of it most of the time, most of the time we were indeed on the same page, supporting each other, and even when we weren't we always got the job done and ended as friends again…all the better friends, I have always thought, for the trails we endured and vanquished…together."

'Rachel' was thoughtful for several long moments. "And yet we are at an impasse here, Admiral…I did not accept your demands now, and as such I will no acquiesce to them."

"Call me Tom." He corrected, not acknowledging her repeated refusal of what_ had_ to be done this day. _Bringing her home._

"Admiral, did you hear me…"

"It's Tom or Chandler if you must, you are not one of my soldiers."

"Admiral ..." She repeated, stubborn to the last.

Fearing the battle could be lost, an _**completely unacceptable **_outcome, Tom threw everything he had into a last ditch effort to convince her to trust him in this moment and in this all important matter. So he begged, he got down on his knees in front of her, nearly eye level with her dog that was eyeing him with clear caution, lest he upset his mistress again, and he begged her.

"Rachel, _please._ I acknowledge that it is up to you to decide, of course, I was wrong to demand before, I apologize. I know you don't know and remember me as I know and remember you, and I know things must be so confusing for you right now, but I beg you,_ I beg you, please!_ _**Please **_come back with us, _back with me._ I could not bear it if something happened to you after we had only just been granted the miracle of your survival. It would be beyond devastating for so many people. And it is a _real possibility_ Rachel. You are a celebrity, that means_ many many_ people love and adore you, but with great fame also comes the attentions of a small number of less desirable people as well…"

Tom paused, he hated this, not the begging, he couldn't care less how much he had to debase himself before only her if it made her safer, he couldn't care at all. What he hated was the direction he was going, the tact he was using. The last thing he wanted was to scare her into returning with him, or worse walking the line of the emotional blackmail path that had the potential to be the death knell for their not-yet relationship. But he felt he had little choice, and every word he spoke was in fact the truth, he hoped that fact would protect him when the time came.

"Rachel, these people, these few but very dangerous people, they are members of a group that were the ones to hurt you to begin with and if they learn of your survival, and especially your location out here isolated and virtually unprotected…I very much fear they could come for you again. And Rachel…if they did…they would find your new friends as well…" there he had done it, most likely won the argument, obtained the best chance for her continued safety, but possibly damaged their relationship once again, not that she remembered why that would be yet…

He could see the knowledge wash over her mind, he could see the fear. Though he instinctively knew that the fear reaction was far more for her new friends that it was for herself. It was just who she was. He continued. "I know its scary, I will do everything I can to make it less so for you. The Doctors may want to do some tests, to make sure you are healed, to see if anything can be done to help you retrieve your memories, but I will be with you the whole way…if you want that…or if you don't, well I will still be very close, there is no helping that. I don't think I am going to be very good at letting you out of my sight for a while…a good long while actually. Please come with us, I will make sure you will have no reason to regret it, _I promise you, Rachel_."

'Rachel' was somewhat stunned, she did not speak for several moments. She just gazed into his pleading depths…and thought. What if he was right? What if she was putting people in danger by stubbornly staying out of her only personal fear? She did feel like she could trust him, it was a deep and unclear instinct in her gut, but still it told her she could. And she did at least have some actual evidence that said she could trust him. Her very good friend's very good friend had vouched for the man kneeling before her. All evidence was that he was who he said he was and this was no scam. Which would also mean that _she_ was who he said she was too… An extremely surreal thought, based on the super woman like picture he had painted of her.

Something else she knew was that the man before her was _absolutely not _accustomed to begging, but he was doing it for her anyway, and completely unashamedly. That fact, added to the other, helped her come to her decision and feel confident in it, or at least as confident as she was going to get anytime soon…

LSLSLS

"She agreed to go back with us!" Tom informed the others, emerging and smiling victoriously, as if from battle.

And the three men who had accompanied him cheered as if his words really did indicate a war victory won.

LSLSLS

Rebecca was in the bedroom packing her things to leave when Elena sought her out and entered.

"What do you think of the Admiral? Once you got past the urge to strangle him I mean."

She smiled and they both laughed.

"He seems like a good man, though a little authoritarian for my liking."

"But he isn't always so, is he? I don't think you would be packing right now if he had merely ordered you to do so?" Elena questioned knowingly, despite not having been able to hear what had been said when they weren't yelling at each other, she had a fair idea that the tone of the conversation had turned quite drastically to cause such a drastic change in her friend.

"No, no…he…he…he got down on his knees and begged me to come with him, he basically said he couldn't bare to be separated form me again."

Elena raised an eyebrow, her question clear.

"He's married, Elena. In addition, he is not my type." Because he couldn't be, she spoke and thought resolutely. And if she repeated that enough times to herself, she might just be able to make herself beehive it.

"Rebecca…should I still be calling you Rebecca? Or would you prefer Rachel now?" Elena questioned, genuinely not minding, just wanting to know what her dear friend preferred.

Rachel/Rebecca didn't hesitate. "_You_ may call be Rebecca for as long as you wish, Elena, but from now on I doubt many others will. I don't think anyone else is going to let me hide behind Rebecca anymore…they all want me to be this Rachel Scott…_desperately_ it would seem. I really don't know that I can live up to all they want of me. This woman they believe me to be, she sounds amazing…how can that be me, Elena?"

"Ok, Rebecca, I call BS on that first part, Thomas Chandler is _every _woman type of man."

"Elena!" She exclaimed, shocked at her friends directness.

"What? I'm married, but I'm not dead, honey. By the way, I noticed the ring too, it was most at odds with the way he was looking at you so I asked Elijah. He's a widower.

Rebecca/Rachel…._Rachel_, _**Rachel**_, she should start thinking of herself as _Rachel_. Lord knew, where she had agreed to go everyone else was going to. _Rachel_ could not pretend that the information that Elena had obtained for her wasn't…interesting…but still. "It doesn't matter, Elena, if he still wears the ring then he still_ feels_ married and therefore there can't be or have been anything between us, I, and apparently you as well, are imagining it. He was obviously just happy to find me alive, that was all his enthusiasm was.

"The way he looked at you was fiercely protective, Rebecca, _very _intense, if you know what I mean. It is not the look of a man who _feels_ married, not at all."

_Rachel_ could admit, to herself, that she wanted Elena to be right, but after so many months of disappointment she dared not let that want turn into a real hope. Though she remembered what she felt at his first touch…based on just that if he told her that she had been the one to put that wedding ring on his finger she would have believed him. But it wasn't so, another woman had done that, another woman he was most likely still holding dear in his heart.

She shook her head to clear those thoughts. Her survival instincts that had gotten her this far was screaming at her not to set herself up for such a large fall, for she feared she could not readily survive it in her present state. "He told me I'm the brains of the operation, he probably considers me a valuable resource or something, not that I know what he possibly thinks I'm going to be able to contribute in my current state… But anyway, my life is already confusing enough without a man in the equation."

Elena didn't believe her friend for a second but she ignored the lie of self protection and spoke reassuringly. "You'll be fine, you have friends. Many friends by the sounds of it. And I don't very a second believe you incapable of filling the shoes of the amazing woman they have described, quite the contrary, I find their descriptions very apt."

Silence passed between he two woman for several moments.

"She's right, but don't feel you have to go with them, Rebecca, you can still stay here with us. I'll protect you from them if you really don't want to go." Jake said. The pair had not noticed his arrival.

In reality _Rachel _knew that Jake would not be capable of any such thing if these people really had the desire to take her by force, but luckily it was not the case. "Thank you Jake, but I believe I should go with them, I believe it is time. While a part of me likes the idea of hiding from the world forever here with you both, the problem is that is exactly what it would be; hiding. I can't hide anymore."

She smiled warmly at both her friends who had really become like surrogate patents to her during her recovery.

"I'll never be able to thank either of you enough what did you did for me. You saved my life…and made me actually want to live again."

Neither Jake nor Elena spoke, they just nodded and smiled, both warmly and sadly. They were both sad to see her go, all three sets of eyes shone with unshed tears.

_Rachel _stroked the dog, letting him lick her face. "Goodbye my friend."

"You'll be fine, they'll take care of you, I can see it in all of them. They love you and they will protect you with their lives." Said Elena looking at the men who were waiting for her near the helicopter, having retreating to allow her to say her private goodbyes.

"Remember, you can always come back, you will always be welcomed back here with open arms." Said Jake wholeheartedly, his wife nodded in vigorous agreement.

Rachel hugged them both, a few tears falling.

"We will see each other again, soon, we will make sure of it." She assured them and also vowed to herself to make it so.

Now both husband and wife nodded vigorously in agreement, losing their own battles of shedding tears. Not that Elena was actually trying to stop her reaction to the both sad and happy events, but her husband was. Of course tears were just not 'manly'. Showed what the world knew, for it took great strength to know and feel ones own emotions, and not suppress them.

With effort 'Rachel' turned, picked up her small bag, and made her way quickly to the helicopter and the waiting men, afraid that if she dallied too long, she would lose her nerve.

"It is good to have you back, Doc." Said the man named Tex. Others smiled in agreement.

"Thank you." She answered shyly, the familiar attention from all the men, especially the more familiar look in this Tex's eyes, was still strange to her. But she thought she had better get used to it, people acting as though they knew her far better then she knew then. By all accounts, she was about to be taken to a place where that was likely to be the case with every person she met!

_**He **_was the one that offered his hand to her to help her into the helicopter, she accepted and _Rachel_ could feel that feeling again, when he touched her fingers.

_He's a married man, she scolded herself. __Widower, whispered a rebellious little voice in her head. _

The noise of the helicopter taking flight prevented further conversation, and while Rachel still has an immeasurable number of questions, she was glad of it. She vowed to use this short time to mentally prepare herself for the emotionally taxing ordeal that she knew was to come. That she knew was inevitable, whichever way things went…

TBC


	9. Second Impressions

**Author's Notes:** From this Chapter onwards, Rebecca becomes the joint efforts of Acalanto and JOYS of October with Acalanto doing the great writing stuff and JOYS doing the editing. The first few chapters are canon up to Season 2 and then we diverge from that night at the ball when Rachel was shot. From there, this is AU, but true and pure Scotch. Happy 2020, everyone! Starting the 2nd decade of the millennium.

* * *

Chapter 9 - **Second Impressions **

"So, is it really true? It's her? Is she okay? Did she come with you?"

"Yes, for all the questions, wife. You can imagine the Admiral's happiness, Kara."

"He loves Rachel, Danny. Happy is such an insignificant word for what he must be feeling now. Maybe now they might have a chance."

"Things are not so simple, she does not remember anything, and she prefers to be called Rebecca."

"Poor Admiral."

"She may have no recollection of who she is, she did not react when she saw us, but they argued like old times."

"Did you see them arguing? Wow! I wish I had seen that. Rachel is a force to be reckoned with. Do you remember their discussions when we were on the ship? I think the Captain had never encountered an adversary like her."

"We heard them yelling at each other. I confess the sound was comforting. She's in there somewhere and I think the Admiral is what's going to bring her back to us."

SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH

* * *

"Look, I'm not going to pretend I know what you're feeling because I do not know. But I can assure you that we will all do our best to make you feel good here, and if you still want to go back to Jake and Elena's house, I'll personally take you back."

"Was it not you who said that it was not safe for me to stay there? That my presence would put my friends at risk?"

"I know what I said, but if it is necessary to leave a whole battalion to protect you there, I will do it."

"I'm not important, Admiral."

"Yes, you are."

_You're the woman I love, but you're not ready to hear that yet._

She swallowed hard, because she saw something in his eyes, an emotion, a fire dancing on the background of the blue iris, as if he wanted to say something, but it was so fleeting that she thought she's imagining things.

"Come on, there are some people who are eager to see you. Do not worry, it's not the whole crew. Now, I think the most important thing is for the doctors to examine you."

"I'm fine, Admiral."

"Why am I not surprised for you say that?" he muttered to himself.

She accompanied him to one of the halls of the complex and found four men waiting; everyone looked pleasantly surprised and even shocked to see her. She should get used to this behavior. When they arrived, she saw the shock, surprise and joy in people's faces. They just did not approach because the look they received from their commander made them stop.

"This is Mike Slattery, my second in command, Master Chief, Dr. Rios and Dr. Milowsky."

"Hi, I'm Rebecca," she felt the need to assert her identity. She is Rebecca and not that Dr. Rachel Scott that everyone desperately wants her to be.

Everyone said hello, three of them calling her Dr. Scott. She had the distinct impression that they were still recovering from seeing in front of them, a person they thought was dead.

"It's good to meet you Rebecca. Sorry for our shock and our reaction to seeing you. We are all happy to know that you're okay. You can call me Jeter."

She doesn't know why, but felt immediately at ease with Jeter, maybe it's his calm and reassuring voice, his gentle expression, or maybe it was the ease he said her name. "Are you the diplomat here, Jeter?" She asked and gave him a sincere smile.

"No, Tom is the team's diplomat, Master Chief here is some kind of advisor on the ship. I have no problem calling you Rebecca; if that's what you want Doctor," Mike explained.

"Admiral Chandler is a diplomat on which planet? He seemed to enjoy giving orders and expects everyone to obey," she countered with one of her eyebrows arched.

Tom opened his mouth to defend himself, but Jeter was faster.

"I can assure you that Thomas Chandler is one of the kindest and most honorable men I know. Only exceptional circumstances would make him act differently. He becomes a bit intense when he needs to protect someone he cares."

He has inspired nothing but loyalty in the men under his command, she realized. It was a point in his favor.

Mike looks at Tom with an amused smile curving his lips; it seems his friend did not make a good first impression.

"Right. Where would you like to start, gentlemen?" She asks, talking to the doctors. "You probably want to do some tests to find out the reasons for my amnesia. I think I need to go to a hospital."

"Yes, we would like to do some tests, if you agree, of course. But we don't have to go to a hospital. We have everything we need here."

"Let's do it, Dr. Rios, the faster we do these tests, the faster you will realize that there is nothing wrong with me. Sirs," she said and left the room accompanied by the two doctors.

"Stop looking at me like that, Mike. It is not funny." Tom told Mike as his eyes followed Rachel walking with the doctors.

"The woman comes back from the dead and you have already managed to irritate her. Where is your charming personality?" Mike teased him.

"She may not remember anything, but she certainly remembers how to be stubborn." He smiled fondly at the memory of their earlier argument.

"What happened, sir?" Jeter asked.

"I needed to _persuade_ her to come back. Leaving her there was not an option. I may have been very hard on her_." Stay here and condemn your friends to death. No matter that this is true, it still seems brutal and cruel somehow. "_One moment we were talking, the next she wanted to tear my head off."

"So, you made a lousy first impression." Mike said.

"That's an understatement..." Tom sounded frustrated. "I should be happy, and I am, but I'm scared to have found her, only to lose her again."

"First impressions are important, but they are not everything, sir. The man that you are can be shown through your actions. Be honest and she will react to that."

Tom closed his eyes, rubbing hard at his temples. Why does everything have to be so complicated? During the last weeks of the mission, their relationship, if it could be called that, had grown. Then Niels happened. And if he thought it could not get any worse, the kidnapping and her _death_ showed how much he was wrong. There were so many things left unsaid between the two of them. So much pain unresolved. With Rachel, it had always been one-step forward and three steps back.

"Let's make practical decisions first. Who is she going to live with?" Mike asked.

"With me, of course," Tom replied automatically.

"'I don't think that's wise, sir." Jeter disagreed.

"Why not?" Tom's voice suddenly has a hard edge.

"Your house has only four bedrooms. Where was she going to sleep? And more importantly, your emotions are very close to the surface."

Tom sighed as he acknowledged the truth in Jeter's statement. When it comes to Rachel, he feels lost, out of control. As a result, his emotions take over and logic flies out the window. His mind is still stunned to find her alive, his eyes say she's real, but he's still afraid that it's just a dream. He just wants his Rachel back. But one wrong move can ruin everything.

"You're right, I should have thought of that before."

"Your emotional response is normal, you are in love with her, wanting to stay close is an automatic response, sir."

"How about Kara and Danny?" Mike suggested.

"They are newlyweds, practically on their honeymoon, waiting for the arrival of a baby. I do not know if it's a good idea." Tom replied.

"Tex?" Mike knew what this suggestion was going to do and did not have to wait too long.

"Are you kidding me, Mike? Rachel's living with Tex over my dead body." Tom declared strongly with a frown.

"No matter who the chosen one will be, we are all strangers to her. We must first ask what she wants. We must give her a minimum of control over her own life."

"Again, you're right Jeter."

"And if she chooses Tex?" Mike provoked. After weeks seeing his friend steeped in sadness, it was great to be able to tease Tom about Rachel, a very alive Rachel.

Tom snorted. "Mike, don't you have work to do?"

"This is my tip to get out**.** Let's go, Master Chief, I think Tom has everything under control here."

When she returned some hours later she only found the Admiral waiting. All her examinations had been normal, that must have been good news, but she felt frustrated, because it was not a physical reason that prevented her from remembering her past. It was her own mind that refused to reveal her secrets. What dark secrets are hiding in her subconscious? What is she so afraid to remember? What was Tom's role in all this?

She looked thoughtful and, a little tense.

"I owe you an apology, Rebecca." Tom said bluntly. "I feel like I may have been a bit overbearing when we met."

"A bit? You waited for me to obey your commands, Captain. I'm not one of your soldiers."

In the last hours nobody had called him Captain. On the night of her disappearance, the President had informed him of the change of rank. So her memories were bound to **his** old rank. During the first weeks on the ship she always called him Captain. It was a small thing, but this gave him hope.

Rebecca noticed the Admiral looking at her, a strange expression etched on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just that you…" He interrupted in what he was about to say by a knock on the door.

"Come in," he said.

"Sir," a young man entered the room and offered a brief salute. He looked at her in wonder, but looked away quickly when the Admiral called his name.

"Mason!"

"I'm sorry, Sir. Everything is ready, they're already waiting." He added for Rebecca,  
It's really good to see you again, ma'am."

"Thank you," she responds.

"I thought you'd like to talk to Jake and Elena. And then we can have dinner with my father and my children, it's getting late and you did not eat anything. What do you think?" Tom asked.

Relief flowed through her.

Her face lit up, the first genuine smile since she had arrived.

"Sounds good, thanks."

Her acceptance unfurls something in his chest. One step forward.

She was taken to another room where there was a radio and then they left her alone.

"What is wrong? What did they do to you?" she heard Jake's worried voice ask.

"Nothing's wrong. Really, I'm fine. I just needed to hear your voice, it was a long day," she said, not wanting to worry her friends, but Elena noticed the anguish in her voice.

"Talk to me Rebecca, what's troubling you?"

"Maybe I'm a little nervous. I do not know if I can be that person that everyone wants me to be. I do not feel like Rachel Scott, to be honest I think it would have been better if they had never found me. I feel pressured by their expectations."

"You don't have to change for anyone, be it yourself. They like you; they'll wait when you're ready."

"You have us; you will always be welcome here," Jake said trying to reassure her. The dog barked in the background as if agreeing with the owner.

"Thank you my friends. I needed to hear this." She needed to talk to them because they are her friends, she trusts them and, mainly, because they knew her a Rebecca, they could not compare her to Rachel and it reassured her.

SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH

* * *

He opened the car door for her, while she slid into the passenger seat, and buckled her seat belt; he walked around the car and sat in the driver's seat. He put on his own seat belt, then turned and looked at her. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll probably ever be."

They made the short trip to his house in silence; she kept her eyes focused on what was happening outside the car. Protected by the dark glass of the car, she observed the people who seemed to be resuming their lives after the pandemic. A young couple exchanging a passionate kiss, a man painting the facade of a building, kids playing in a playground, a mother trying to calm a crying baby, an elderly couple holding hands. The look of adoration on the man's face as he looked at his wife was impossible not to see.

_Who would they be? What is their story? Did they have children? Grandchildren? Are they alive? What had the epidemic taken from them? What had they faced together to get this far?_

He took his eyes off the road and looked at the silent woman sitting next to him. He saw a sad smile curled her lips and wondered what caused it.

She turned to face him and said, "The press knows that Dr. Scott… I mean, I'm back?"

He pretended not to notice her slip. "We have managed to keep this information a secret, but unfortunately, it is not something we can do for long. Do not worry about it; you do not need to talk to them now. There'll be an official press release tomorrow."

He stopped at a checkpoint where two armed soldiers saluted and allowed their entry. Then they entered a tree-lined street.

"We are here," he said as the car stopped in front of a house. The house was one-story, beautifully landscaped, white, with a front porch with two chairs and a swing.

They got out of the car, and together they climbed the porch steps, then stepped forward to open the front door for her.

When they entered the house, she saw a man with gray hair and blue eyes, who resembled the admiral and two kids, a girl of ten or eleven, and a little boy of seven years old. They smiled when they saw her.

"Rebecca, this is my dad Jed and my kids Ashley and Sam."

"Nice to meet you all and thank you for inviting me over for dinner."

Jed reached out to shake her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Rebecca. You are most welcome."

"You're the woman that the Dad thought was lost."

"Sam!" Ashley said, chiding him.

"What? Was she not lost? But Grandpa said—"

"Samuel!" Tom says the name of his son and gave him a warning look.

She barely suppressed a smile. Sam's curiosity was natural; he was just a child. Children have a natural tendency to say what they think.

Sam touched her arm and confided conspiratorially. "Dad said my whole name; I think I'm in trouble. We've met before, but we should all pretend not, because…"

Tom groaned, but said nothing.

Sam shot his father a look. "Oh! I shouldn't have said that, it was a secret. Sorry, Rebecca, can you forgive me?"

She bent down to the child's level.

"There is nothing to forgive, I understand your curiosity. For the people here I was really lost."

"I'm glad that you've been found."

"Thanks." She stroked her thumb against the boy's cheek. "I'm sorry for not remembering you."

"It's all right," he said, and gave her a warm smile. "Nice to meet you, my name is Samuel Thomas Chandler, but I'd rather be called Sam," holding out his hand.

Her heart melted. His behavior is charming because it is natural and sincere.

"It's very nice to meet you too," she replied, shaking his hand. "You're so adorable!"

A bright smile spread over his face. "I know."

Tom and Jed laughed. Ashley just rolled her eyes.

She straightened her posture and asked, "Can I keep him?"

"You were going to beg to return him the next day." Ashley said.

Tom smiled again. His son managed to enchant Rachel; she seems to have liked his father. It seems she has a hard time resisting the charm of the Chandler men.

"Dad is very happy with your return, Grandpa said—"

"Sam," Jed cuts him off. "You do not have to tell all the conversations you heard here."

"Oh!" Sam's eyes widened. "Sorry, Grandpa."

"He can't help being a blabbermouth." Ashley said.

Sam stuck his tongue out at his sister.

"Sam, Ashley; behave yourself."

"I did nothing, Dad."

"Yes you did, you called me a blabbermouth."

"Children!" His tone took on a decidedly sharper note.

They replied, in a humble and contrite voice; "I'm sorry, dad!"

"Dinner is ready," Jed said. "So why don't we all sit down?"

Jed sat at the head of the table as Tom pulled out a chair for Rachel to sit. Then he walked around the table and sat facing her, next to his daughter and Sam sat next to her facing his sister.

She didn't realize how hungry she was until she took her first bite. She closed her eyes briefly as she chewed a piece of meat, a delicious filet mignon with herb butter and mushroom sauce. Simply divine!

She found him watching her as she opened her eyes, and she blushed a bit. A faint smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Unconsciously, she bit down on her lip and he groaned internally, thinking how he wanted to kiss those lips. She looked down at her plate.

She avoided looking at Tom but could feel him watching her.

Her hands weren't very steady when she sliced the meat into small pieces, but she managed to carry the food to her mouth without spilling anything.

For him, this is an exquisite form of torture. So close and yet so far.

Jed had been watching, narrow-eyed, all this. Tom was practically drooling over Rachel. She looked slightly flushed when their eyes met. Then she lowered her eyes demurely to her plate, as if the steak was the most fascinating thing in the world. _Interesting._

Tom took a long sip of his wine, not taking his eyes off her. Then he felt his father's eyes on him.

Jed gave him a minuscule shake of his head.

Tom sighed lightly. _It's gonna be a long, long night. _

After waiting a moment, she risked a glance in his direction and realized that he seemed completely focused on his food.

She took a sip of wine, watching him over the rim of her glass.

"Dad, since we have one guest, could we stay at home tomorrow to help Grandpa?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Good try, buddy! But you're going to school tomorrow. Your grandfather does not need help."

"Okay," Sam said with an expression that belied his words.

_God! Sam was a lovely little thing, _she thought as her fingers traced the rim of her wine glass.

Their eyes met again, she lifted her chin up in slight defiance and didn't look away.

An enigmatic smile formed on Tom's mouth.

How he would like to take up the challenge, but he knew it was too soon.

He was the first to look away.

"Dad looks at you in a funny way. I think he likes you, Rebecca." Sam said innocently.

Upon hearing this, the piece of meat he was chewing descended the wrong way, causing him to have a near death experience while choking on his food. Ashley patted his back a few times, her eyebrows drawn together in concern. He coughs and food finds its way to his stomach, making him take relieved breaths.

"I'm okay," he rasped, wishing he sounded it. "It just went down the wrong pipe."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Tom raised the glass up to his lips and started drinking slowly. His throat was sore after choking on food.

"So you like her?" Sam insists.

He smiled as he set the glass down on the table, begging God that he could survive dinner.

"Of course Dad likes her, silly! She saved his life."

"Your sister is right, Sam, she saved my life. But I'm also her friend, although she does not remember it now. Yes, I like her." Tom replied, all the while keeping his eyes on Rachel's face.

_He was probably talking about the vaccine, _she thought.

"Rebecca, tell me about your friends, Jake and Elena." Jed asked politely.

She smiled gratefully at him and told about her friends, about their kindness, that Elena was a nurse and Jake was a retired military. That she liked to ride a horse and walking the dog, a Labrador.

On hearing the words dog and horse, the children became quite enthusiastic, asking several questions, which she answered patiently.

"Dad? Can I have a dog too, please?" Sam asked.

"We already talked about this. A puppy is a big responsibility."

"I can help Sam, Dad," Ashley added.

"Every boy and girl should have a dog. That teaches discipline and responsibility, Tom." Jed said.

"Attack on three fronts. I need an ally here, Rebecca."

"Surrender seems to be the most appropriate scenario in this situation, Admiral."

"I see…. Okay," he said, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "But you're going to have to take care of the food, the bath and the dirt..."

Before he finished speaking, two very happy and enthusiastic children practically jumped from their chairs to give their father kisses and hugs.

Jed and Rebecca exchanged amused glances.

She cannot deny that seeing him interact with his children made her wonder if she had been a little too hasty in judging him. He is very sweet with them.

"Children, I need help with dessert." Jed said.

"They are lovely. You must be very proud of them." She said while looking into his eyes for a second. His once impeccable hair was a mess and his uniform all wrinkled, but he did not seem to care.

"Yes, I am very proud of them, but I must admit that my wife, Darien, did most of the work."

"Wow! We have chocolate cake. We should have a guest every day." Sam said as he returned with Ashley and Jed to the table.

"He's a smart kid."

Tom snorted. "He is."

"This looks delicious! You're a fantastic cook, Jed," she said as she sank her fork into her cake.

"You can call me Jed, Rebecca. I would like to say that I was responsible for preparing the meal, but Bacon was responsible, not me."

"Bacon?" she asked, after savoring the first piece of cake.

"The man responsible for cooking on the ship," Tom explained. "Although my Dad is a good cook, he does not have the same competence as Bacon in this matter."

"At least I never had to use a fire extinguisher in the kitchen." Jed said.

The children laughed, clearly having fun at his expense.

"Hey, you two are supposed to be on my side and not to ally with your grandfather against me."

"What happened?" Rachel asked curiously.

Tom replied, sounding a little bit embarrassed. "My wife liked banana flambé topped with ice cream. I wanted to surprise her. It just went spectacularly wrong. Nobody lets me forget."

"So you don't know how to cook?"

"No, "the children and the Jed said together.

"My son may have many skills, but cooking is definitely not one of them."

He looked at his father, "Thanks, Dad. Good to know that I have your support." Then he turned his full attention back to her. "Do not believe them, I'm not so bad."

_No, you are not._

"Son, while the kids help me clean the kitchen…"

The children protested, but a look from their grandfather and the offer of another piece of cake silenced them.

"Why don't you and Rebecca retire to the porch? The night is beautiful and the temperature is more pleasant outside."

_Subtle, Dad, really subtle. _

"I think it's a good idea, Mr. Chandler, I mean, Jed," she said. For the last few hours, she'd thought hard and decided she needed to know what had happened to her. Admiral Chandler seemed to be the right person to give her some answers.

"You do?" Tom asked, surprised.

"I really need to talk to you. I have some questions. But if you have something important to do, I—"

"No," Tom replied quickly. Then he added, his voice calm and controlled. "I'm not busy."

"There's still wine left in the bottle. Maybe you…"

Tom managed not to send his father a warning stare.

"I already drank enough for today, Dad."

"Me too."

He needed to get her out of here, before his father had other funny ideas.

"We can go if you're ready,'' he said

"I'm ready."

His chair scraped along the polished wooden floor as he stood up and came around to her side of the table.

"Thank you so much for the delicious dinner, Jed," she said, getting up from the chair.

"It was a pleasure, my dear," Jed said. "I'm glad you enjoyed it!"

She smiled at the children and followed Tom out to the front porch.

Mr. Chandler is right, she admitted as she sat on the swing in the porch. The night was beautiful, the stars shining in the firmament, and the breeze rustling the trees.

He sits down in a chair in front of her. In fact, now that she was looking closely, he seemed… nervous, almost. _Why?_ She had so many questions for him, but unable to determine where she wanted to begin. _Who am I? Who are you, Thomas Chandler? What relationship do I have with you, anyway? Why do I feel butterflies in my stomach whenever I'm near you? _

He was looking at her with his eyebrows raised questioningly. Then she realized that she has been staring at him for a few minutes.

"Do you wear uniform all the time?" she asked.

"I usually take off when I take a shower."

The images so unexpectedly conjured up by his words was disturbing, in a way that the butterflies in her stomach stirred.

_Wait—that came out wrong, even if it is true. What the hell? _The question had been so unexpected that he answered without thinking. She already thinks you're a control freak and now she must think you're an idiot. _Thomas Chandler, think before you speak, _he scolded himself.

"Really?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Even in the dim light of the porch, she noticed that he was blushing, which she found unexpectedly charming.

"That come out wrong…sorry, what I meant was… you know..." He sputtered and fumbled between his words

"Oh, believe me; I know exactly what you meant." She could tell he was definitely blushing now. A spontaneous laugh escaped her lips when she saw his discomfort.

He ran a hand through his silver hair in a self-conscious gesture and smiled at her.

"I did not know that military types like you can blush like a maiden."

"It's hot here," he said defensively while pullin on his collar.

"Actually, the temperature is very pleasant. Just admit that you blushed," she insisted.

"I would not admit something like this even under torture. I've got a reputation to uphold."

"Of course you have." She smiled at him. For a moment their eyes locked. She was the first to look away.

She let her eyes wander down the street before she allowed herself to look at him again.

"Who lives in the other houses?"

"Members of Nathan James' crew…"

"I know them; I mean I knew them before."

"Yes, you've lived with us all for months. During the mission, you became one of us. They are very happy with your return."

"What if I never remember who I am?" There was a note of desperation in her voice.

"You will."

"Are you always so confident?"

"In my field of work I need to be and it helps a lot when I have data that corroborate my certainties. Doctors said there are no physical reasons for your amnesia."

"Yeah, I know. But the mind is harder to heal than the body. Although we mapped the various functions of the human brain, in many areas it remains a mystery. "

"See, you're talking like a scientist that you are. The information is inside of you; just find the right keys to access them."

His eyes hold so much hope in them that her heart tightens. Since she found them, they have told her that she did a job she should be proud of, that she is a strong woman, that it is only a matter of time before she regains her memory, but if she does not feel strong, she feels tired, insecure, frightened because her job had been what bound her to them. There is no connection or recognition. The attraction she feels for him does not count. She is human and he is an attractive man. If she can never be that woman again? Would she be able to bond with those she once called friends? How could she have forgotten this friendship? And why?

Suddenly, she realized that she must be lost in her own thoughts for some time, again, because he was looking at her with obvious concern.

"I don't remember who I am, but I'm not blind. I see how you look at me."

"And how do I look at you?"

He watched her with this soft yet intense look, there is this mixture of affection and longing. He wants her back, at least who she used to be.

"I'm not the one you lost, and maybe it never could be."

He exhaled slowly.

"When you disappeared, " he said and paused for a few seconds as if searching for the right words. "Not all the prayers in the world would bring you back. No enemies we destroyed satiated my desire for…justice. I wondered what I could have done to make the outcome of that day different, so that you would be safe. I tried to convince myself that you were no longer suffering, that no one else could hurt you. Nothing worked. And over time I had to accept the fact if you had gone forever. But here you are, alive and I am…"

Guilt can be a good motivator, she thought.

"Relieved?"

"Happy. I'm sorry I made you feel uncomfortable." Then an agonized look crossed his face. "After your death, I always dreamed of your body on fire and you screaming for help. For weeks, your screams have haunted me. They still haunt me. I need to make sure that you're real and not a fragment of my imagination."

"Jesus!" she exclaimed. "What exactly happened to me?" She needed information that would allow her to assemble a piece of the puzzle that was the life of Dr. Rachel Scott.

"You were kidnapped on the day of the president's inauguration. When we realized what had happened, a rescue mission was organized to find you. There was a chase, the car the kidnappers were, and a woman we thought to be you, flipped and then caught fire.

"That's why you have these nightmares, seeing someone die burned is a horrible experience."

"I was not there, I had been injured on a previous mission and there was a piece of shrapnel inside my body. The doctors had to operate me. I just knew what had happened five days later."

"Do you feel guilty about what happened?" It was more a statement than a question.

"I'm guilty. It was my job to make sure you were safe and I failed this mission."

"I believe it was not your fault what happened to me."

"Everyone tells me the same thing, maybe when hell freezes, I'll believe it."

"You just said that you were hurt when I was kidnapped."

"Because I was too stubborn to listen to your medical recommendations."

Rachel's brow was knit together in confusion. "Doctor? I thought I was just a scientist on your ship?"

"When I told you that you saved my life, I was not just referring to the vaccine. When I was injured in a blast, it was you who did the surgery but a piece of shrapnel remained inside my body. There were many shards and one was hidden behind my liver. You insisted that I should be operated again, but I refused. And when you needed me, I was helpless to help."

"Wait, Dr. Rios is the doctor who works on your ship, right?" He nodded. "Why didn't he do the surgery? You're their commander."

"There were many who were injured that day, the doctors had their hands full. You are skilled with a scalpel. They knew my life could not be in better hands."

"How could they know that?"

"Contrary to my orders, that you should not leave the ship, you have volunteered to help one of my soldiers. Then you had already saved Cruz's life in the middle of a gunfight."

All this new information was making Rachel's head swim.

He was not a strategist for nothing. He knew when to retreat. "Too much, huh?"

"Yeah," she said, "It's disconcerting to hear you talk about…me; it's like listening to a tale, full of adventure and twists about a stranger. I confess that in the last hours I thought how good it would be if you had never found me, but…"

"I'll take you back, right now if you want."

"There's no way back, even if I wanted to. As I was saying before being interrupted…."

He visibly relaxed

"Sorry."

"Even though the memories of who I am are lost, pretending that nothing happened will not work. Although it is difficult, what I need are answers. Why did those people want to hurt me?"

"They consider themselves chosen by God, because they are naturally immune to the Red Flu." He said with contempt. "For them, when you created a cure for the disease, you interfered in the natural order of things."

"They're stupid," she said. "It is not natural to let someone suffer or die in a slow and agonizing manner if there is a chance of treatment."

"Unfortunately, fanatics have their own logic, Rebecca."

In the weeks that she had stayed at Jake and Elena's house, she wondered what had motivated the attack. Why people wanted to hurt her? Sometimes she wondered if she had done something wrong. And finding out that a bunch of fanatics wanted to see her dead, it was scary. Because fanatics are known for not giving up on their targets. "They tried to kill me," she stated flatly. "And they'll try again."

_They will be dead before they get close to you again and this time it will not be that fast._

Something dark and dangerous emerged through his features. She swallowed hard, and a shiver ran down her spine. She was looking into the eyes of a predator, brutal and unforgiving. A sudden realization jolted her: this man would kill to protect her.

He watched her eyes go wide as if she could hear his dark thoughts.

The last thing he wanted to do was scare her.

He took a deep breath releasing the air slowly.

His eyes softened, and his voice was low and comforting as he spoke. "There's practically an army between you and any fool enough to try to hurt you. You are one of us and we always take care of family."

She was silent for a time, comforted by the certainty that was secure between them, but at the same time overwhelmed by the importance, she has for them.

"It's been several weeks and I do not remember anything related to my old life ..." then the dream, with the faceless man and the maze comes to mind.

"What?"

"It's nothing. It's just…," she started hesitantly. _Sometimes I dream of a maze and someone I feel I know locked in it. I thought it was you._ No, she could not tell him that. "I try so hard, but I cannot remember anything or anyone." The frustration in her voice was evident.

He reached out and took hold of her hands and said, "Maybe that's your problem. Maybe you're trying too hard. Let things happen naturally."

She felt his hand over hers, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. She pulled her hand away so fast she could have been burnt.

He watched her retract, distancing herself from him.

"Are you okay?"

_Stupid question,_ he rebuked himself

"No," she admitted, "I'm tired and my head hurts."

"What you need is a good night's sleep." He suggested. "The day was very intense for you."

"Where do I sleep?"

"Today you can sleep here; tomorrow we can discuss your other options."

"No."

"No?" he asked confused. "Why don't you want to sleep here?"

"What I want to say is that I prefer to discuss my options now."

"Ah! Okay… well, you've met some of us, anyone at the base would be happy to host you. I can introduce you to the other crew members tomorrow."

"I do not remember any of you, I prefer to live alone."

"Look, you're safe here, but I'd be better off if you were not alone. Unfortunately, the Immunes are still a threat. Choose one of us, please, if you do not like the experience, we'll do it your way."

The arguments seemed very reasonable. She thought of those she had met today, one of them certainly was off her list of options, the man who sat in front of her and waited for her decision with some apprehension. It would make no difference to meet other crew members the next day, everyone is a stranger to her.

"I choose Jeter. Now I think I'll go to bed. You're right, it's been a long day." She said as she got up and started to walk back towards the front door.

"Rebecca?"

"Yes?" She turned around and met his gaze. He didn't say anything for a few seconds, just looked at her in that soft, intense way that she was beginning to get used to.

"I'm very happy to have you back," he finally said. "You, not just Dr. Rachel Scott, the scientist, but the friend I thought I'd lost."

"I—I...thank you," she murmured, her throat aching with unshed tears and then she ran off.

SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH

* * *

"What the hell was that, Dad?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jed responded, handing him the pillow so he can finish making his makeshift bed.

"_Why don't you and Rebecca retire to the porch? The night is beautiful and the temperature is more pleasant outside."_ Tom said, doing a decent job of imitating his father's voice. "Ah! And let's not forget the final touch, the wine. She's lost her memory, but she's not stupid."

"You heard her, she wanted to talk to you. As the gentleman that I am, I just helped a beautiful woman get what she wanted."

Tom laughed softly. As if she needed help getting what she wanted. He had knelt at her feet, for God's sake.

He sank down onto the couch and his father settled into a chair in front of him.

Suddenly Tom's expression grew serious. His brow furrowed. "Tell me I'm not dreaming. She is really here. Rachel is here. Alive."

"You're not dreaming, she's sleeping in_ your _room right now. And you should do the same; you have to take the kids to school tomorrow."

"I need to talk to Sam."

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?"

"Am I so transparent?"

"When you look at her, I don't know, let me think for a minute, son."

"Dad, not exactly helping. She seems to have noticed too, and asked me about it."

"What did you say?"

"That I was happy to have a friend back."

"You did well. Take your time. Let her process her emotions and thoughts. Then, move forward… slowly!"

"That from a man who _suggested_ we should talk under the stars."

"This was just a father trying to help his son. Just… try to keep your hands away from her."

"Dad, I'm not sixteen anymore."

"You're in love, which makes you want to stay close, touch, kiss," Then a dreamy smile slid across Jed's features. "When your mother and I met, I could barely keep my hands off her."

''Ugh…I didn't need to know that."

Jed rolled his eyes

"I watched her over dinner; it seems she liked what she saw."

"Huh?"

"She seems to have liked watching you interact with the kids. You're a good father, Tom, women value that. And you made her laugh."

Tom groaned. "I said something stupid." Then he buried his head under his pillow.

"This might have been good."

"I don't know how," Tom said, taking the pillow off his face

"This makes you more human, more accessible, less… intimidating…"

"Dad, I very much doubt that anyone can intimidate her. I was certainly never able to do that."

Something in his son's voice made him suspicious.

"So you tried?"

"When I discovered the truth about the plague, I may have been quite… aggressive."

"But she did not back down."

"No. On that day, she had almost been killed, which would make anyone shaken. I was screaming at her, complaining that she had put my mission at risk, my crew, threatening to throw her samples into the sea. Her face was flushed, probably because she ran for her life. And the way she said: _my mission, Captain,_ with her head held high and looking straight into my eyes, I could not believe the woman's audacity…"

"You like it about her: her fiery spirit."

"Yeah."

"I know you're desperate to get her back, but remember, the woman here is not Rachel, now she's called Rebecca, although it does not seem to be, she is scared and very vulnerable at the moment. Be careful."

"I will. I would never do anything to hurt her. She'd probably kick my butt if I tried."

Forget the grown man, in Jed's heart, his son's smile reminded him of the child he rocked to sleep, the child who looked at him as if he had all the answers in the world.

"Dad?"

Jed blinked, and the man came into focus. Feeling blessed to have approached his son again; he smiled and answered his question.

"Everyone here knows that you did not make a good first impression."

"Don't remind me."

"During dinner she saw not only the father that you are, but also glimpses of the husband you were. A man capable of trying to cook to please your wife. What woman would not like that?"

"I didn't plan it," he says, sounding very defensive.

"I know, "Jed said. "That's why it worked."

"Second impressions," Tom said with a big smile on his face.

No better thing for a father than seeing a smile on his son's face. That happiness that overflows and goes beyond the eyes, when the whole body speaks, _I am happy and I want everyone to know that. _

When he opened his mouth to say something to his father, what came out was an enormous yawn.

Jed laughed

"Go to sleep," Jed commanded, but his voice was soft. "Tomorrow she'll still be here, and you'll have your second chance."

"Night, Dad." He said, while looking for a more comfortable position on the sofa.

"Night, son."

SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH

* * *

Hours later she lay on her bed, restless, unable to sleep. Frustrated, she threw off the covers and stood up. Carefully she opened the door to her room, barefoot and silent she went across the corridor, her path lit by a lamp lit in the hallway.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw him sleeping on the couch, clad in T-shirt and shorts; he was lying on his side, looking deeply asleep. He had one arm under his pillow and the other extended out over the covers.

Sleeping like a baby, he looked different, relaxed almost vulnerable._ Well, as vulnerable as a tiger could be. _Inexorably drawn to him, she stepped closer, and crouched beside him. He muttered something that she couldn't hear and moved in sleep, sighing softly.

What was it about this man that drew her? Perhaps because he is different from others, something in him seemed almost… familiar. Get away from him, her mind is practically screaming at her, but her feet did not seem to get the message. Then she unconsciously reached a hand out to him and…

In the last few months the dreams with her had most of the time been filled with anguish, seeing her die in the most painful way, or her calling for help, but he could never reach her.

_Today the dream was different. They are on the deck of the ship, the breeze fluttering her hair, a serene and satisfied smile curving her lips, "You found me, Tom". _

_They are a few steps from each other. But he could not move, afraid to touch her. Afraid that if he did she would disappear._

"Come_ here,"' she said, holding her hand out to him._

"_Wow, you look great!"_

_She was looking stunning in a black long dress, and silk black shoes with stiletto heels, a slit along one side of the dress gave him a tantalizing glimpse of a shapely leg._

"_But you never wore a dress on the ship," he said closing the distance between them. "And I'm sure not a dress like that because I would remember."_

"_This is your dream, Tom,"_ _she said with obvious amusement._ "_You always wondered how this dress would look on me."_

_Tom looked at Rachel with a confused frown. Then he remembered where he saw that dress before. _

"_The dress that you were going to wear on the day of the party."_

"_Yeah, but you made some changes." she said as she put her hands on his chest. "You really have a fertile imagination."_

_He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. "A man can always dream."_

"_Some dreams can come true,"she said, brushed her lips against his as she spoke. Then she moved her mouth to his ear and whispered. "Wake up and you'll find out, soldier, but don't open your eyes." _

_He moaned in frustration as she pulled away, a smile on her lips._

"_Rachel," he groaned again as the woman in his arms began to disappear._

_He was waking up and did not want it._

Still trapped between dream and reality, he felt soft fingers gliding over his face with kindness and a certain hesitation. Warm, real, tangible. She is here; his mind finally accepts the sweet truth.

He could feel his heart racing, the blood pounding in his temple. With titanic effort, he kept his eyes closed, but his lips betrayed him as he released an unconscious sigh beneath her touch.

She froze and held her breath, waiting for him to wake up at any moment, but it did not happen, he stirred a little but did not open his eyes. Then he shifted once more, only to roll on his stomach, hugging the pillow as he snored softly.

"Thank God!" she whispered, sounding relieved and amused at the same time, and then she walked away, back across the hall to her room.

Inside the safety of her room, she wondered why she had done it. She wondered if with loss of memory, she lost something else. Her sanity, perhaps.

Crawling back into bed, she buried her face in his pillow and groaned with shame. _I just need to forget. _She almost laughed at the irony of the situation. To forget is what had put her in this mess in the first place.

SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH

* * *

Lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, a silly grin on his face, he could still feel the soft touch of her fingers on his face. The woman he loves, she may have another name now, his name has disappeared from her memory, but his Rachel was in there somewhere.

Already partially asleep, his lips whisper a few words.

She dreams of the labyrinth, but this time she can enter, as soon as she takes the first step in, the branches interlock effectively closing the entrance, preventing her from going back. She just has an alternative; move on. Then she heard a baritone voice call out. The voice was warm, rich, and… familiar.

_Find me._

* * *

Hate it? Love it? Leave a word.


	10. Flowers for a Ghost

**Authors' Notes: **Life and nature threw some curveballs at JOYS OF OCTOBER which caused a slight delay in the updating of this beautiful story. But nevertheless, ENJOY!

* * *

**Chapter 10 - Flowers for a Ghost**

Rachel woke up a bit disoriented, the remains of a dream on the edge of her consciousness. She closed her eyes and sank her head deeper into the pillow, trying to hold on to the dream, but it slid away.

Then memories of what had happened the day before flooded her mind, stealing her breath for a moment. It was all so unbelievable._ "Rachel," _she whispered the name softly, trying to rescue some sensation, any memory associated with the name, but there was nothing.

Then she heard his voice as if it were outside her door. "Come on, children, hurry up, we're late!"

She remembered that the children's room was next to hers. _That's why he sounded so close._

A flush of embarrassment washed over her. She didn't know how on earth she was ever going to be able to face him again.

_He doesn't know, he was sleeping. Just act normal._

_Normal. Sure. Whatever that means. Damn it. She doesn't even know if she would have done something like this before, because she has no comparison parameters._

_Stop worrying!_

_Good advice._

"Speak softly; you will wake our guest." said a voice which she recognized as Jed's.

"I'm ready, Dad." Ashley said.

"Sam, are you ready yet?"

"I'm coming, Dad," Sam shouted.

"Don't. Scream. Speak. Softly." Jed sounded mildly exasperated.

"Oh, sorry, grandpa."

She smiled, because she could practically see the boy's contrite look.

Footsteps went away and she can't hear what was said anymore.

"If anything happens, call me immediately," Tom said to his father.

_The only thing that could happen was that your guest woke up with all the noise. _But he knew that was not what his son wanted to hear.

"I will!" said Jed. Seeing the insecurity in his son's eyes, he added, "I would never, ever let anything happen to her."

"I know."

"Good."

Tom nodded his thanks, then he followed his kids out the door.

A few minutes later as Jed tidied up the kitchen, he heard light footsteps and turned around with a smile.

"Good morning, Jed."

"Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?"

"Quite well, thank you."

"Have a seat," he said, motioning toward the kitchen table. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Tea and toast, please."

He fixed the tea, then toasted a slice of bread and set it in front of her.

"I hope Tom and the kids didn't wake you up."

"Oh, no! I was already awake," she said, after taking a sip of tea.

The morning passed quietly, Jed was a good host and kept her entertained by telling some stories of when he was a soldier and when the children were small. She learned with sadness that the Admiral had lost siblings to the pandemic.

Around 11 a.m., someone knocked on the door. Jed was surprised; after all, he was not expecting anyone. His son had made it clear that his residence was forbidden territory until ordered otherwise. He smiled as he opened the door and found the unexpected visitor. Just like his son, Tex Nolan had a special interest in Rachel.

"Tex! it's good to see you. Please, come in." Jed said.

"Hi, Rebecca" he said. "I don't know if you remember me."

"Tex," she said his name with some hesitation. "Hi."

His smile deepened. Her British accent played like music to his ears.

After the usual greetings. They all sat down, her in a chair and the two men on the couch.

His playful way had conquered the children from the beginning. They adored their new friend and were always happy to interact with him. "The children are at school, they will be disappointed to hear that you have been here." Jed said.

"I can come back later to see them," Tex says without taking his eyes off Rachel. "But what brings me here," he says and then his hand reaches into his pocket and he takes out a bracelet," I have something that belongs to you, Rebecca."

"Why did you keep this if you thought I was dead?" She asks, sliding the bracelet around her wrist.

"Because it was yours." Tex replied simply.

She couldn't find any words to respond at the moment, touched by the fondness she saw in his eyes. They thought Rachel Scott was dead, and yet they saved her things.

"You're not one of them, I mean; you're not a military man."

"How did you find out? My hair? My beard? Or maybe my lovely personality?"

"I would not exactly use those words, but yes."

"So, you think I'm charming, huh?"

"I didn't say that." There was amusement in her gaze, the hint of a smile toying with her lips. "Are you going to answer or not?"

"I work with private security."

Tom had already told his father about how he trusts the former Gitmo guard as a soldier, that his battlefield skills had been important to winning some battles in this war. That he considers him a good man and a good friend. He cannot help but think that his son would have a serious competition for the beautiful doctor's heart.

"That explains a lot," she said

"Huh? What? Why?"

"Relaxed, maybe even a little… I don't know… just not the behavior of a soldier…"

"He can be a relentless soldier when he needs to be." Jed said.

"I do not doubt it," she said. "Your son appears to me to be an exacting man."

Tex was a bit disappointed to realize that she recognized his abilities as a soldier just because he was part of the Commodore's team. During the months they'd known each other, she had made it clear that she liked him as a friend. It was not hard to see why. Whenever she and the Captain were in the same room, their eyes sought each other. Apparently, her loss of memory had not destroyed the confidence and attraction she felt for Thomas Chandler. All he had to do now was wait for the inevitable to happen, or not.

He would always be her friend, and a man can always dream, even if the dream seems impossible to attain.

"Hope," he whispered.

"What?" Jed asked.

"I was hoping to persuade you to join me for a walk around the block." He says looking at Rachel.

"Me?" she frowned. "I… I don't think that's a good idea."

Rachel's every muscle tensed as she imagined herself outside the house and her response had been automatic.

"You don't remember me, but we were friends once. You can trust me," Tex's said, the seriousness in his voice was unmistakable.

"Go, my dear," Jed encouraged. Tom's gonna kill me when he knows that. "You need to distract yourself. It's not good for you to be locked at home with an old man the whole morning."

"I like your company, Jed," she said with a slight smile. And it was true, she felt comfortable with him from the first time she saw him. She does not know why she feels a special affection for him.

"Thank you, my dear."

"I'm not as handsome as him but I can carry a decent chat, I assure you."

She bit her lip, unable to stifle a smile. She needs to stop hiding; it's just a walk down the street, right?

"All right," she said and got up from the chair. "I'll go with you."

"Great!" Tex says with a big smile. "I'll bring her back before lunch, Jed."

"Do you live in one of the nearby houses?" She asks when they walked along the street side by side.

"Yes, with my daughter Kate, Burk you already know and the ship's engineer, Andrea Garnet. There were only a few homes for many of us, sowe had to share the space."

"Do you know Jeter?"

"Master Chief? Of course. I can vouch for him, he's a good man. Like all the men and women of Nathan James. He lives with Miller and Wolf and a teenage girl named Bertrise."

Seeing curiosity in his eyes, she felt obligated to explain herself to him. "I chose to live with him while I'm here."

"Ah! You could not have made a better choice." _At least you did not choose Tom,_ he thought with relief.

In the last hours, she had lived in an emotional seesaw, torn between fear of the unknown and the need to know who she really is. As frightening as it may be, she has to struggle to get answers. She needs to recover her past and her memories.

"Are you okay?" Tex asked "Suddenly you were thoughtful."

"No, but I'll be fine. How far away is the cemetery from here?"

"What? Why?"

"I need to see my grave," she said.

"It's not your grave, you know," he said softly.

"I know, but my name is on it." She tries to think of how to explain but she is not sure how. "Maybe I'll get some answers there."

"The people that are there are not usually very vocal, if you understand what I mean. I personally find the cemeteries too scary."

"There is nothing scary there, people are dead."

He doesn't want to go to the cemetery. Seeing a body that he thought was hers, burned beyond all recognition and going to her funeral, had been extremely painful for him. He had not come back there.

"Exactly, the cemeteries remind us of our own mortality." _And of those whom we love, _he completes in thought.

"But that's where I want to go. Can you take me?"

Tex watched her as she crossed her arms, determined to get what she wanted. A look so familiar that he smiled in spite of himself.

"When he finds out about this, it's going to be my funeral," he whispers sardonically as he scratches the beard.

"You're talking about Admiral Chandler, aren't you?"

"He's got a protective streak a mile wide when it comes to you. The press is anxious to see you and…"

"I can't hide forever; in addition, I can take care of myself, thank you very much."

She could not remember who she was, but her mannerisms and her opinions were all Dr. Rachel Scott.

He laughed and said. "Independent and courageous, see, you're still you. I have an idea; wait for me here, please." Then he crossed the street and knocked on the door of one of the houses, returning with a coat and navy cap in his arms.

Seeing her interrogative gaze, he explained. "Your disguise to get out of here without the press seeing us."

"I don't know… Do you really think this will work?" she asked.

"Maybe not, but at least it will be fun," he said, giving her a wink. Rachel doesn't look convinced.

Then he adds. "Do you want to leave here, or not?"

"This is ridiculous," she protested, but slipped one arm into the sleeve and let him help her with the other as she pulled the coat around her.

Tex waited for her to close the buttons of the coat, and then handed her the cap. She wound her hair and clipped it on top. Then she pulled the cap on, stuffing her hair inside.

He asked Kara to warn Jed about the change of plans.

"How long have we known each other?" She asked casually.

"A few weeks. When Captain Chandler realized that the ship needed fuel, he stopped at the Guantanamo Bay Naval Base. I was one of the prison guards, then the only survivor, having to deal with some enemies who wanted me dead."

"Did he save your life, then?"

"Let's just say we saved each other. It was a beneficial relationship for both sides. I needed help with the prisoners, and a ride home. They needed fuel and supplies, and I had the keys to the kingdom."

"Is that how you became part of the ship's crew?"

"Yes. Then I met you, and you immediately liked me and we started a beautiful friendship."

"Immediately?" She asked, trying not to smile.

"What can I say, I'm an irresistible guy, my sense of humor always attracts girls, besides my good looks, of course."

Something in his voice sounded strangely reassuring. She does not know him, at least not this version of herself, but she feels comfortable around him.

"Do you want to hear how I met Kate's mother? And how she fell in love with me."

"Go ahead, tell me," she said.

"She had long beautiful blonde hair which hung half way down her back and beautiful blue eyes. She smiled at me a few times, and then I thought, ``she likes me."

"And?"

"Encouraged by her apparent interest in me, I approached her and said the phrase. _Hi, I'm Ken, do you want to be my Barbie?"_

Rachel laughed. "You did not."

"I did. It gets worse."

"How can it possibly get worse?"

"She smiled brightly at me and said. _ I'm Helen. Can you introduce me to your friend?"_

Imagining the scene, she laughed even harder. "Wow! That was…"

"I know, embarrassing, painful, humiliating…"

"What did you do?"

"After I regained the function of my vocal chords, I said, his name is Nick. As she stood up and walked toward my friend's table, I walked toward the bar. A beer appeared in front of me, _I think you need it, cowboy, _I heard a musical voice say. I looked up and the bartender was looking at me sympathetically. _Thanks, _I replied."

"Kate's mother?" She asked surprised.

"Yeah. From that day I definitively assumed the name Tex"

He could see that she did not understand.

"My real name is Ken, Ken Nolan."

"Really?"

"My father had come from Texas. Sometimes I used the name Tex instead of my real name. I thought it would be a better name to introduce myself to Hayley."

"What was she like?"

He paused for a moment, sadness replacing the joy in his eyes.

"Hayley _was_ beautiful, independent, brave, and so strong. My Kate looks a lot like her mother."

"What happened?"

"She was killed by men who invaded her house," he said sadly. "Maybe they were looking for food or maybe their intentions were more perverse, I will never know."

"I'm sorry; it must be difficult for you."

"Yeah…it was worse for Kate, she saw her mother die."

He pulled the car into the empty parking lot at the cemetery.

They walked among the tombs; some with sculptures of important personalities from the city's history, obelisks, some with angels of varying sizes and different expressions on their faces, some mausoleums, and some were just simple tombstones.

Then, near a pond, under a leafy tree, he stopped. "We think you would not like a mausoleum. That you would like to stay outdoors."

She looks around. Her eyes are drawn to the sculpture of a little girl in the arms of an angel. Her hair in two braids, smiling a wide, toothless smile, one foot was barefoot, on the other she wore a red shoe, the only color point in the sculpture. Her sweet and delicate appearance chiseled and eternalized in marble.

Sometimes there is beauty in the strangest places. Sad beauty.

He admired her for a moment, besides the shorter hair, now hidden under the cap, the small scar on her forehead; she looks the same, beautiful, independent, stubborn, all sharp edges and steely determination. But her eyes show a vulnerability that although it was there from the beginning, to those whom she trusted enough to lower her guard, now is so close to the surface, that anyone can see.

He watches her breathe deeply, lost in her thoughts, a sad smile touching her lips. It was surreal to see her standing next to that grave.

Then her eyes scan the place again. A blue sky with fluffy clouds like cotton balls, a placid pond, green grass and verdant shade trees. They chose a beautiful place for_ her_ tomb.

For a moment he forgets to breathe, remembering the last time he was here for her funeral. Sorrow permeated the environment like a heavy, suffocating cloak. The soldiers were not strangers to death, they were a part of their lives, but it did not make the situation easier to deal with. Master Chief had made a touching farewell ceremony, but all he could think of was that she was dead. His throat burned with the effort to keep his tears at bay. Despite his efforts, some tears escaped and trickled down his cheek, then he stopped trying, tears were a tribute to her. He would never hear her voice again or…

"It's beautiful here," she whispers, not looking at him.

Her voice, so soft it was no more than a whisper, as if she had spoken to herself, plucked him from his painful memories and made him breathe in relief. She was not dead; it had all been a nightmare. Rachel was alive, breathing... Suddenly everything seemed perfect, although things were far from perfect.

_God! She's beautiful._

"It truly is perfect," he replied after a moment, not even glancing around at the surrounding landscape.

She turned to look at him full in the face. "Why?"

He knew there was a stunned expression on his face, but couldn't seem to remove it. "Why what?"

She realized that his eyes were wet, but decided not to comment. It was a cemetery; people get emotional in these places.

"What made you think I would not like a mausoleum?"

"Well," he said. "When you were not in the laboratory, you would like to stay on the deck of the ship. Sometimes you had trouble sleeping. The sea breeze seemed to help you relax."

"Finding the cure for a deadly virus should be a stressful job, and maybe a rather lonely road."

"You were never alone, even when you thought you were."

It wasn't explicit but the implication was clear enough.

"Because you were there."

"Not just me," he said, "I have not always been on the ship, remember?"

"Members of Nathan James's crew?"

"Yeah…"

She slowly lowered herself to the grassy earth and sat down with her legs crossed and put her hands against the green grass in front of her.

He took a good look around, and discreetly checked the handgun and knife hidden under his clothes. Even if the place looked safe, he should not let his guard down.

He cannot fail her again. He will not go.

He sighed. Cemeteries.

There's something creepy about cemeteries. Having seen all those horror movies when he was a child had left a lasting impression. With obvious reluctance, he sat beside her on the grass, not that she realized it, since she seemed lost in her own thoughts, again.

_I will always be here for you Rachel, but I must admit that he has arrived first._

_Flashback_

_Unable to sleep, Tex went to the deck of the ship, and a lone figure caught his eye. She was on her back, her protective arms around herself._ _He smiled as he recognized Dr. Rachel. She turned and then he saw the side of her face, her eyes were tired and he could see the tension in her expression._

"_She's having trouble falling asleep again," a deep voice said._

_"Holy shit!" Tex growled. _

_She looked up, as if she had heard something and they instinctually retreated into the shadows._

_"Man, do not sneak on me like that!" He said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."_

"_Your attention was elsewhere, or should I say it to someone else, so you did not notice my approach."_

"_She's a fascinating woman, I think I'm in love, "_ _Tex said, joking, and then returned to watch the woman a few paces away. Now her eyes were closed, the breeze playing with the locks that had loosened from her braid. "Do you know how long?"_

"_We've known each other for over four months."_

"_What can you tell me about her?"_

_Tom watches her take a few deep breaths, her hands resting on the ship's rail. Her posture screams fatigue._ _She really needed to rest, unfortunately in that; he had been unable to help her._ _She works hard and sometimes forgets to eat. Bacon was instructed to prepare light meals that she could eat while working. He was still learning about her, about what was hiding beneath her steel exterior._ _And how to circumvent her carefully constructed defenses. "Not much, she is a woman of few words."_

"_So how do you know she likes to hang out on the deck late at night?"_

"_It's my ship, knowing what's going on here is part of my job."_

"_Are you aware of the sleeping pattern of all your crew?"_

_Tom grinned, but there was no humor in his voice when he answered._ _"The weight of finding a cure rests on her shoulders. A ship is not the best place to keep secrets; you have certainly heard comments since your arrival."_

"_Some people on this ship think of her as a heartless bitch. Ice Queen! But she got into the middle of a shooting to save one of your crew; this should help to change some opinions."_

_A woman like her needed to trust to demonstrate what she hides beneath the surface. They had started off on the wrong foot, but over time he hoped to develop a bond of trust between them._

"_Dr. Scott is an essential part of the success of this mission, Tex. but she is also one of us now and we protect and care for her."_

_I just need to get her to believe that_.

_Tex watched with admiration as she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin slightly, her posture straight in spite of her exhaustion, _her_ determined steps as she returned to the bowels of the ship._

"_Even when the person in question can kick your ass?" Tex asked. "She seems fiercely independent."_

_There's a lot that he doesn't know about her,_ _but one thing he knows, she rarely shows vulnerability, but does not mean it's not there. "She does not need to know that I'm here, but if she needs me, I'll be around."_

"_You really care for her, don't you?"_

"_Yes. I do."_ Then_ he offered him a tired smile. "It's good to have you aboard, Tex._ _I need all the help I can get. "_

As the days passed, he began to observe with interest a relationship of friendship deepening between Captain Chandler and Dr. Scott. The way she reacted to his presence, how she sought his company and his approval, and how he sometimes looked at her when he thought no one was watching, how he relaxed beside her, how they also generated enough heat to set off a five-alarm fire bell. How they started to fall in love without realizing it.

So absorbed in her contemplation of the tomb, as if all the answers she sought were there, she did not seem to have noticed his little journey down memory road.

It was a simple tomb, just a tombstone with a name, Rachel Scott and below the name, a phrase, _She lives in every person saved by her vaccine_. A vase with a bouquet of red roses next to it.

"The flowers are fresh; it seems that someone comes here often." She says, as she touches the petal of one of the roses. "Do you know who put the flowers here?"

"No, but you have many admirers. Your vaccine saved many lives."

What she does know is that she was directly responsible for the death of a person. She put her hands on the grass. _Who was the woman who had been buried in the tomb with her name? At what point did her fate intersect with hers? Why did she die in her place?_

Her fingers are drawn back to the rose petals, as beautiful, as soft as velvet, but like everything in life so fragile and ephemeral.

"Flowers for a ghost," she says so low that it is barely a whisper. She is not the woman buried in this tomb, but she is not the woman who was kidnapped either. She is a ghost, a shadow of herself.

A blinding pain shot through her head, making her wince and then an image floated before her eyes, an image in her mind of the man, knife in hand, approaching a helpless…_ Lizzy. _

"Rachel! Rachel! Rebecca!" Tex called out urgently, holding one of her hands in his.

"Lizzy…" she whispers, but it seems her mind is still somewhere else because she seems to look through him.

Another image flashed, and Rachel gasped, the image of a man with a knife approaching her, an interest clearly visible in his evil eyes. Then she abruptly pulled her hand as if she could not bear to be touched.

He breathes a sigh of relief when she blinks and looks at him.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, unable to hide the worry in his voice.

She shook her head, as she wrapped her arms around herself, an anguish in her brown eyes. He just wanted to hold her and say it would be okay, but her posture clearly said, stay away. He waited patiently, giving her time to process what she had remembered. Because of her reaction, there is no doubt in his mind that she remembered something. But what? He asks himself worried. _Who was Lizzy?_

"The woman who is buried here… I think her name was Lizzy..." Rachel closed her eyes for a moment and continued to speak as if she was visualizing the scene. "Her eyes were brown, like my own, but darker. She was so scared…"

"Now that we know the truth, we can try to find out who she was."

_Was. Past._

Lizzy. She's dead. Gone. Lost. Perished. Fallen. Slaughtered. Many words, the same bitter meaning. Tears welled up in her eyes, anger mixed with frustration at the thought of the injustice of it all.

"The knife was extremely sharp when—" Her voice broke and she stopped...

Tex inhaled sharply.

Rachel's skin crawl, especially because she remembers the way he, that man, looked at her, as if she was a piece of meat, _I can do whatever I want and you cannot stop me, _his eyes said. The worst thing was to know that he was right.

Tex reached out and stopped the movement as he remembered how she'd reacted before.

"Rach—" he started to say and realized his mistake. He took a deep breath then tried again. "Rebecca, look at me, please."

She looked up at him, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"It's okay." His voice was salve. "You're safe now."

It was hard to keep a calm voice when inside he was boiling. He could only imagine what the kidnappers had done to her. Those bastards had died too fast.

"Am I? Something tells me this is not over."

"I promise, no one will ever hurt you again," he said, vehemently—too vehemently.

She met his gaze. Any gentleness in his expression disappeared. His voice was harsh and menacing. The sight sent a shiver up Rachel's spine to raise the tiny hairs on her neck and her heart quickened.

She had seen a similar transformation in Tom's eyes. A part of her deep down, wanted to rebel, she did not want to be treated like a damsel in distress, but another part, the vulnerable and frightened part, liked it.

"Both of you are frighteningly intense."

He did not need to ask whom she was talking about, he knew.

"We care about you."

"So I'm learning."

For a moment, she thought to ask why, but she was not sure if she was ready to hear the answer.

"I'm ready to go back; I already have the answers I came to get." _And some that I was not looking for._

"Sure," he said and stood up, offering his hand to her to help her get to her feet, their bodies too close, but she did not feel the need to move away. Still holding onto Tex's hand, she placed her other hand flush against the center of his chest, right over his heart.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"Anytime, honey."

It was ridiculous to blush to hear him refer to her like this, but she does. She looked away, stiffening as she saw a familiar figure approaching. "What is he doing here?"

"Who?" Then he turns to see what has captured her attention so. _Of course, he couldn't stay away._

"Rebecca, Tex, I did not expect to find you two here," Tom says, his eyes landing for a moment on the intertwined fingers. She quickly let go of Tex's hand, and cursed herself for it in thought. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

Everything is under control, his father had said when he called. Conveniently, he had forgotten to mention that she had gone out for a walk with Tex. His father was well aware of Tex's feelings for her. He made no secret of this. _What the hell?_ His old man owed him some explanations.

"I can say the same, Admiral. I appreciate your concern, but—"

Her eyes were red, her face flushed. She'd been crying. "You okay? You look a little—"

"I'm fine," she assured him, a little too quickly. He had a way of making her feel way too vulnerable, and it irritated her, she did not know why, or maybe she did. She held his gaze, her chin tilted in defiance, and a stubborn expression in her eyes that made him want to smile. But he didn't. Because he felt a sharp pang of jealousy when he saw Rachel with Tex. Their position was so close it seemed almost intimate .She was touching him. _You are mine._ This almost primordial instinct of possessiveness was disconcerting. _Get a grip, man._

She notices the tension in his jaw, but ignores it.

"Right…"he says, without taking his eyes off her.

She looked tense and deeply disquieted; there was a certain anguish in the depths of her brown eyes. _What the hell had happened here?_

"I'm safe with him," she says, feeling the need to defend Tex.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Tom said, looking directly at Tex, who nodded in acknowledgment.

No other word passed between them. Both share the same sentiment for this woman and this makes them implicitly trust each other to keep her safe.

She took off the cap she was still wearing and ran her hands through her hair.

"Interesting choice of clothes." Tom said.

"What do you think?" Tex asked, "Would she be a good sailor?"

"She has proven that she can adapt to any situation, but we both know that she would have difficulty with one of the aspects of a soldier's life."

Tom and Tex exchanged amused looks.

"All right, I'll bite," she said. "What aspect?"

"You're expected to follow orders from a commanding officer."

Tex snorted. "You are terrible at it."

"What is the highest rank in the United States Navy?"

Tom quirked one corner of his mouth upwards, in what might pass for a smile. That was all the answer she needed.

"_Admiral_?" she asked.

She somehow managed to make the formal title sound every bit insulting.

He shook his head affirmatively, looking deep into her eyes, his smile widening. Distance, she needs to keep distance from him, because her own emotions were a tangled mess, and dammit, the way he looked at her, it certainly did not help.

"So…"Tex said, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to supervise the removal of the tombstone with her name, but I found that the workers only come tomorrow."

"Good idea, man. It's creepy her name on this grave."

His answer made sense. When they had talked yesterday, it was clear he felt guilty about what had happened to her. It is possible that he thinks he owes something to her. Or maybe he had here for other reasons. She looked at his left hand. Just as she hoped—his wedding ring was there. Maybe he'd just been visiting the tomb of his wife, a woman he still seemed to love.

"Is your wife buried here?" She asked.

The two men shared a look.

"No," he replied after a moment. "Darien is not buried…" something passed over his eyes for a moment, and was gone…**"**here. She died in Baltimore."

There was no doubt in her mind how much he had loved his wife. His eyes softening as he spoke her name. Dealing with the loss of a loved one can be very painful. But not only pain and sadness in his voice, there is something else she cannot identify. Judging from the grim looks on both their faces, there is much more in this story.

"Sorry— I shouldn't have asked you so…"

Emotion flickered in his eyes. _You also almost became a victim of that place._

Suddenly exhausted, his eyes darted through the cemetery, seeing nothing. "Baltimore was…"

He thought fondly of the woman he loved, whom he would always love, grateful for the years they spent together, for the children she had given him, the reminders that she'd once existed. He had not been able to save his wife, had not even given her a proper burial. It's hard to say goodbye to someone when there's a body, a tomb to visit, but when none of this is possible, finding a closure is twice as painful.

"It was horrible beyond imagination," Tex supplied.

Something very bad has happened in this place to cause such a reaction on the two men. She decided that it was better not to know. Some questions are better left unanswered.

"Okay! We can go, Tex, " she says, and walks toward the parking lot, leaving them behind.

_Tex. She calls him by the first name. Don't go there, Chandler! There are more important things now._

"Wait!" he said, grabbing Tex's arm to make him stop.

"What?"

"What happened? When I arrived, she seemed shaken."

"She may have remembered the name of the woman buried here. Her name was Lizzy."

"Okay, that's good, we can ...," he stopped talking at the sight of the somber expression on Tex's face. "Shit! She remembered something else, didn't she?"

"Yeah, she remembered when she was injured by one of the kidnappers. I got the feeling she remembered something else, but she didn't want to talk about it."

Tom's fists were tightly clenched, and his eyes burned with a frightening fury. He would like the kidnappers to be alive so he could kill them again, slowly.

She had stopped and watched them both with curiosity and a certain apprehension. Tex made eye contact with her and smiled, but it was a tense smile. She could not see Tom's expression because he had his back to her. But his nervousness was clear, his whole posture was tense and stiff, veins popping out his neck and his fists were clenched as he talked to Tex in a low voice

"I know what you're feeling, man. I'd also like to make those bastards suffer, but now try to relax, she's looking at us.

Tom took a deep breath, relaxed his hands, and tried to wrestle his temper under control, when what he really needed was to hold Rachel against him, to comfort her and assure her that everything would be all right. "Dammit! Why did you bring her here?" he asked, through clenched teeth.

"Because she asked me for help. You would have done the same."

He cannot refute the truth of this statement. "You're right, I would have." He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I'm sorry; I just wanted to be able to protect her."

"I know, so I am. But unfortunately, to recover who she is, she'll have to remember painful things too."

"She is lost, but she's still there, during the last hours I had glimpses of her personality." Tom said.

"Oh yeah," said Tex. "She is still independent and…"

They turned to look at her, and she frowned confused with the amused expression in the eyes of the two.

"Stubborn ". They said together and then they began to laugh.

They looked at her, who was looking at them as if the two had lost their minds. Somehow it was strange to see someone laughing in the cemetery, it did not seem right.

Maybe they needed to release the tension of the last few months, or it was just the look of disapproval in her brown eyes, the two men laughed until tears streamed down their faces.

"Damn! She must be thinking we're crazy."

Tex reached out and patted him on the shoulder. "Possibly, but your crew already thinks I'm crazy, it's expected behavior from me." Then he started walking toward where Rachel was standing.

Tom shakes his head and follows Tex, trying to maintain seriousness and proper behavior to a military commander.

"Is everything alright?" She asks, alternating the look between them.

"Yes," they respond in unison.

She looks at Tex, he winks at her with a playful smile in his lips. Tom had returned to his usual seriousness, at least what she imagined was his normal behavior. But she sees the small smirk playing on his lips before he can hide it.

Then they walk together in relative silence towards the parking lot. The two men walking beside her: One on the left, one on the right.

"Where is your car?" Tex asked.

"I always leave my car on the other side when I come here. I'll see you at home, Rebecca. " Tom says and begins to move away from them.

Then he had come here before. Why? His family had not been buried here. She needs to know.

"Admiral?"

He almost asked her to call him by name, but he knew that this battle was lost for now. She was too stubborn and liked things in her own way, something her amnesia had not changed.

He stopped, turned, and faced her. "Yes?"

"Do you know who put the flowers in the tomb?"

His expression was tender, when he responded. "A friend." Before she can say anything, he walks away toward another exit from the cemetery.

It was he, who had brought the roses, she was almost certain of it. The delicacy of the gesture flooded her senses with a pleasing warmth. In the last hours, she had discovered several facets of his personality. He might be arrogant, but he can also be charming when he wants to be. She likes that sweet and gentle side of him.

Despite the situation in which she finds herself, without memories of her past, she feels safe with them, as if they were the place she should be.

Looking at the pensive woman at his side, Tex said, "a penny for your thoughts."

She looked at him. Tex seems like a nice guy; his relaxed attitude makes all the difference, he's very funny and easy to talk to. The more she saw of him, the more she liked him.

"Tell me more about yourself, Tex Nolan."

* * *

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	11. Birthday Party

**Chapter 11 - ****Birthday Party**

**Author's Notes: ** We hope that all our readers are doing good during this time of a global pandemic. The role of Dr. Rachel Scott could not have been more prescient than now that we have a "flu" going around. So, for those of us who are hunkering down to see through this pandemic, here is something to add to your reading pleasure! And to alleviate your probable boredom, do indulge us with a review. Stay safe, everyone.

* * *

Four weeks had passed since the strange incident at the cemetery. Unfortunately, other memories had not found their way to the surface. Sometimes she feels as if the memories are within the tips of her fingers. But it was like being in a car at high speed, she only saw outlines of the landscape out there, but never the full landscape.

She remembers how Bertrise reacted to seeing her at Jeter's house.

"_Dr. Scott!" A teenager screamed excitedly, throwing her arms around Rachel in a tight embrace. "It's really true, you are alive, you came back to us." _

_The hug clearly took Rachel by surprise and she stood stiffly for a moment, before hugging her in return. Her eyes darted around to meet Tom's, an unspoken call for help._ _She decided not to think that there were three more people in the house from whom she could have asked for help. Jeter, Wolf, and Miller._

_ Well, the last seemed as stunned as Bertrise. He had stammered when saying her name when greeting her, and continued to stare at her, wide-eyed, mouth agape._ _She saw Wolf whisper something in Miller's ear,_ _the boy blushed, he couldn't be much older than the girl, and he snapped his mouth shut with an audible crack. _

"_Bertrise, she needs to breathe," Tom said with a small smile._

"_Oh...I'm sorry," Bertrise said, as she quickly moved away from Rachel. "I didn't want to do that, I mean I wanted to, but…_ _I'm so happy you're alive… I'm glad you're home. " _

_Home._

_A place where your family is, where you feel safe and loved. At the time, she smiled at the girl because that was the right thing to do._ _They were strange, really friendly, but strange._

Gradually she was getting used to her new home, her old/ new friends. When she stopped living in her own head, desperately seeking answers that never came, and allowed them to approach, things began to change.

She placed herself in front of the window. The atmosphere of the garden was warm and welcoming, full of laughter and chit chat. Some lamps had been hung on the trees, chairs and tables scattered to create small spaces for people to talk.

Everybody else seemed to be having a good time. The group of teenagers, among them Kate, Bertrise, Mason, were chatting animatedly, a little bit away from the older ones.

At another table, Kara, Danny and Alicia were sharing what looked like a taco salad. Pregnancy cravings. Last week she had a craving for mango ice cream. This week was basically anything with some Mexican spice.

Six men were in the corner; they were drinking beer and Mike was probably telling one of his bad jokes, if forced smiles were any indication.

Then her eyes were drawn to him. In love, Rachel was irrevocably in love.

She felt her heart melting as it always did when she looked at the boy. Sam rested his head on his father's shoulder, his eyes drooped under heavy eyelids as he yawned.

Tom kissed the crown of his son's head, enjoying the moment, he knew it would not be long and his son would not allow himself to sleep on his father's lap.

He smiled at Ashley who looked as sleepy as his little brother. He cupped his daughter's cheek in his hand and lovingly stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. He doesn't know where the time went. It seems like it was just yesterday when she was just a baby and he had held her in his arms for the first time. His little girl grew up too fast.

"Bed for you, buddy," he said with a smile, and hoisted Sam onto his shoulders to carry him.

The sound of feet shuffling through the corridor met her ears, male voices, and laughter, doors opening and closing. Focused on the scene below, Rachel ignored the sounds coming from the next room.

"So this is where you hide?"

Rachel jumped at the voice behind her and found Elena there, watching her. A smile graced her face and her eyes sparkled with fun.

"Elena!" she said while giving her a hug. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Tom invited us."

"He didn't say anything."

"If he had said it would cease to be a surprise."

Rachel watched Tom walk away with the sleeping child in his arms, probably to put him to bed. Ashley walks beside him. He reached out and set his hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"Adorable, isn't he?" Elena asked.

"Adorable would not be the first word I would choose to describe him."

"What word would you use to describe him then?"

He was so full of contradictions sometimes it made her head spin

"Bossy, and don't forget, arrogant, stubborn, frustrating." Then she remembered his gaze as he looked at his children. The sweet and affectionate way he spoke of his wife. "I don't know what to do with him."

"I could give you some ideas."

Rachel stammers indistinctly, her face turning bright pink.

"Sorry, sorry, my dear, I couldn't resist."

"He's not what I expected," Rachel said. "I've been trying to keep my distance."

Elena gave her a knowing look. "Because you feel attracted to him."

"I like the warmth in his eyes when he looks at me. Do I feel tempted? Hell, yes, more times than I'd like to admit. But I'm not ready for a relationship right now, Elena."

_Neither is he. He is still wearing his wedding ring. He must have loved her very much._

Rachel decided to change the subject.

"Where is Jake?" she asked. "I know he does not like to leave home, it's hard for him to be among strangers."

"They are not strangers." Elena said. "Now I want you to tell me how you really are, my dear."

"Okay, I guess," she says as she walks away from the window and approaches a table, where there were some papers spread out and a laptop open.

Then Rachel pulled up a chair and sat down and Elena followed suit, sitting in front of her.

"What is all this?" Elena asked.

"A piece of my past. I had a boyfriend, his name was Michael," she said, turning the laptop screen to show her the picture of a tall man, dark hair, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses, leaning over her with a crooked grin on his face.

"What do you know about him?"

"He was a photographer…" She trailed off, a sadness wrapping around her voice. "He was in China when the epidemic began, he is dead."

"I'm sorry," Elena said softly. She reached out her hands across the table, and held Rachel's hand in a gesture of comfort. "And the papers?"

"My work. I read the reports on the creation of the vaccine. It's all so unbelievable. I think I can understand why they need me to remember."

"How do you feel about it?"

"I will be lying if I say that I am not proud to have been able to do something like this, but if something goes wrong? And if I—" Then she flushed as though ashamed.

"And you're not there to help," Elena finishes gently.

"God! I'm being arrogant."

Elena's heart rejoiced. Rachel was showing signs of accepting who she really was. It had started by name, less than a week ago; she'd left Rebecca behind and allowed them to call her by her real name. Less and less she referred to herself in the third person. Elena hopes that this is an important step to regain her lost memories.

"It's not arrogance, my dear. The heart is always quicker to recognize what reason ignores."

Rachel raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

"You are afraid. We are all afraid of losing those who are important to us. For us when they died, no matter how old they are, how long they have lived, how long we knew them, it is always too soon."

"That's why you and Jeter get along very well; you have a way with words like him."

They had met when Elena and her husband had come to visit Rachel three days after her return.

"I didn't see him when I arrived."

"He's been visiting his in-laws, and should only be back in two days." After a pause Rachel said, "Sometimes it's hard to deal with this emptiness; to know that a part of me is missing, but it's getting easier. You're right, I like them. You remember Tex?"

"He was one of the men who accompanied the Admiral when he came to get you. If I remember correctly, when you and the Admiral were arguing, he said you two were stubborn as mules, showing blatant disrespect to a commanding officer, which makes me think he is not a military man. Add to the package, a beard, long hair, and good sense of humor. Tex Nolan."

"Actually, his name is Ken."

"Really? Tell me everything."

"There's not much to tell. I've seen him a couple of times. Tex is a nice guy. I feel good around him. Safe. He has a daughter named Kate, is divorced... In fact, after I talked to him the first time, it was like reconnecting with an old friend."

_Poor Tex, he was put in the friend zone,_Elena thought. She had seen the way he had looked at Rachel. Surely, friend was not the only position he wanted to occupy.

A melodic voice floated through the open window.

_It's been a long time, a long time coming_

_But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will_

"Alicia…" Rachel whispered.

"She is good."

"Yes, she is."

Rachel closed her eyes and could almost feel the breeze coming from the sea, the heat coming from the bonfire made in the sand of the beach. She kept her eyes closed, and let the music surround her, calming her senses. The complete memory was there she knew, so close, within reach, _"Please, please,"_ she begged softly. But there was nothing else there.

"Shit!" she swore in frustration.

Then she opened her eyes to look at Elena directly.

"Hey. Are you doing alright?"

"I remembered Alicia singing on the beach. Some people were dancing. But I did not stay there for long."

"Where did you go?"

"I don't know, looking for someone, I think."

"Who?"

_There have been times that I thought I couldn't last for long_

_But now I think I'm able to carry on_

"I don't remember."

"Your memories are coming back."

"Yeah… Slowly. Let's go down; you're right, I've got to stop hiding, because even through locked doors the answers come to me."

"Atta girl," Elena said with an encouraging smile as she gets up and walks toward the door.

Elena held the door open. "Aren't you coming?"

"Go on, I'll meet you down there."

SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH

* * *

When she left the bathroom, she was surprised to find someone in her bed. A closer look and she knew exactly who is sprawled on her bed with his head buried in the pillow.

"Hey, wake up," she said, shaking his shoulders lightly. "Wake up."

She bit back a laugh when he replied in a groggy voice, "just another five minutes, Mom."

"Miller!"

"What?" He blinked hard. His face was red and his eyes were blurry. She was close enough to smell the whisky on his breath. Then he finally seemed to see her, his eyes focusing slowly as confusion drifted across his face. "Dr. Scott?"

"Yes, it's me."

"You are beautiful," he said, dreamily. "So beautiful. Are you real? Because you look alive for a ghost…"

_He is really drunk,_ she thought.

"I am as real as you. I've been back for almost four weeks, remember?"

"Oh, right! Good. Glad you're back, we were sad when you died, I mean, when we thought you were dead. We did a farewell ceremony for you, we were all there, well, the Captain was not, he was unconscious after the surgery…Master Chief has a way with words, you know…I cried, just a little bit, don't tell anyone …grown men don't cry…"

Seeing him so made her forget for a moment that he was a soldier. So young, so vulnerable, Wolf takes care of him as an older brother would. His sweet and awkward way made her feel protective of him too.

"So adorable!"

"I'm not," he says indignantly, making her realize she must have spoken out loud. "Men are not adorable… or cute."

"You are."

He looked disconcerted for a moment. After a few seconds, he asked, "Do you think the Admiral is adorable?"

"Sometimes."

"Okay…." Miller said and yawned. "Adorable sounds good to me."

Rachel watched him snuggle into the pillow.

"No, you can't sleep here. Come, I'll help you to your room."

"It's my birthday," he said softly and yawned again.

"I know. Happy 20th birthday Miller."

"How do you know my age?"

"There were 20 two candles on your birthday cake."

"Oh, you were there, too…"

_He had arrived home to find his friends gathered to give him a surprise birthday party. Everybody welcomed him with hugs, smiles and wishes. He stuttered his thanks._

_She smiled when she saw his eyes widen at the cake that Bacon had made for him._

"_Blow out the candles, Miller," Wolf urged. _

"_Make a wish first," Kara insisted._

"_I can't wait to taste it."_

_He closed his eyes to make a wish, then opened them, and blew out the candles_.

"Yes, I was... Why are you here? You should be down there celebrating with your friends."

"I came to rest just a little, I'm tired…" he replied sleepily, stuffing his head into the pillow again. "So I went to the bathroom and… wow! The ship is swaying."

"Miller, how much did you drink?"

"I'm not drunk, I just drank two beers and… whiskey, they said it separates the boys from the men. I am a man."

Rachel hid a smile.

"My mom always made this moist chocolate cake for my birthday," he said, "I miss her. Do you think my mother would be proud of me?"

The moisture glistened in his eyes. She felt her own eyes start to water.

She reached out and stroked his hair, "I'm sure your mother would be very proud of you."

"I'm just tired," he says, rubbing his eyes, "I don't usually cry like this, like a baby."

"Men can cry too, Miller, you also have feelings," she said. "Come on, it's time to sleep in your own bed."

"But I'm in my bed."

"Miller, this is my bedroom."

"What?" He screamed and tried to jump out of bed. In his drunken state, it threw him off balanced, causing him to stumble and fall. "OH MY God...OH MY GOD!" he exclaimed loudly. "He's going to kill me."

"No one is going to kill you," she assured him, crouched down in front of him, offering her hand. He took the offered hand and let her pull him to his feet.

She put her arm around his shoulders, "Come, Miller, you need to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Hmm-you smell good."

"Miller, concentrate,"she said—more like demanded.

As a good soldier, he reacted to her tone of voice. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good boy."

He was heavy. The room he shares with Wolf is next to hers. She thanked God for small favors. With effort, she managed to deposit him safely in his own bed.

She was taking off his shoes, when he surprised her with a question.

"Are you going to be here tomorrow when I wake up?"

"Of course, I live here."

She waited for an answer that never came. He let out a rumble of a snore that made her laugh.

"Happy birthday, Miller," she said before closing the door softly behind her.

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* * *

"Here!" Jake said. "We saved you a piece of cake."

"It's good to see you, Jake," she said, smiling at him.

Jake said, and patted Rachel's hand. "Me too and it is better still to see you safe. I don't mean no disrespect to your son Jed," he added apologetically.

"No damage done."

"You're late." Elena said. "I was starting to worry."

"I was helping Miller."

"Why?"Wolf, who was sitting at the next table, asked worriedly. "Cruz and I put him to bed. He was practically asleep."

"He got lost after going to the bathroom."

"Where did you find him?" Cruz asked.

"Why does it matter?" Rachel asked.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar figure walk towards her.

"To blackmail him, of course," Tom said as he pulls out a chair and sits in front of her.

"Rachel," he said, his voice low and husky.

"Admiral." Rachel returned in a tone charged with defiance.

_I'm not going to call you Tom. Forget it._

The idea had been to avoid the intimacy of calling him by name; his rank seemed more impersonal, except it was had become a little game between them. A dangerous game.

When that happened his eyes crinkled and a smile played at the corners of his mouth, just right now.

Sometimes she'd smile back; sometimes she wouldn't.

She put a piece of cake on the end of her fork, and she took it into her mouth then chewed slowly.

"Mmm," she hummed.

She thought the cake she had eaten after dinner at Tom's house had been the best of her life; apparently, Bacon can do one better. Miller's birthday cake was ... there were no words to describe it.

Tom's smile widened as he watched her eat. Rachel had a particularly weak spot for chocolate cake.

She felt her own lips curve up in response.

So much for keeping her distance, she grumbles to herself.

"He's going to wake up with the mother of all the hangovers tomorrow," she said.

"Sounds like you're developing a bit of a soft spot for Miller."

"And you?"

"What about me?" asked Tom, clearly confused.

"What did your first hangover feel like?"

"Awful!" Tom and Jed exchanged a funny look. "I seriously thought I was a viable candidate for beheading. My father doing some repairs at the house did not help my headache."

"Ouch!" Rachel said. "How old were you?"

_Jed's wife had persuaded him to wait until their son got better from the hangover. He had waited. While waiting he decided to attend to his wife's request. The kitchen door needed repairs._

"_Honey, I know you're upset, but our son needs to get better so you can talk."_

"_He comes home drunk as a skunk," he said, hitting a nail with excessive force. "Singing so loud that he would wake the dead, he threw up in my shoes, and you want me to be happy?"_

"_He is only 16 years old."_

_He hoped his eldest son would follow in his footsteps,_ _but in the last few months he seemed increasingly unruly, struggling with his father every step of the way._

"_He is my son,"_ _he practically growls, trying to hit the nail and instead made more damage to the door frame that he should repair._

"_You want him to follow the family tradition."_

_He stops mid-motion and sighs heavily._

"_What's wrong with that?_ _There are two generations of army men before me__**."**_

_She gently took the hammer out of his hand. The doorframe will have to be replaced._

"_We cannot make choices for him."_

"_I just want the best for my son."_

"_Dear, _**our**_ baby grew up," she says with a rather incisive look. "This is his decision, not yours. Let him tread his own path, make his own mistakes."_

"_It's not that easy."_

"_Believe me, I know." She replied with a watery smile. _

_He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead._ _"I'm sorry, honey."_

_They stood there for a time just holding each other._

_He was more scared than he would admit to himself. His work kept him away from home; he spent little time with his children. He did his best, but sometimes he feared it was not good enough. _

"_There's something different about him, did anything else happen in my absence?"_

"_He is dating."_

_A broad smile appears on his face, quickly replaced by worry_

"_Please, tell me that our daughter is not dating."_

"_She's too young to date, dear."_

"_Thank God!"_

"_Men can be so predictable,."_ _she said, laughing._

With the sound of his wife's giggle still warming his heart, Jed was brought into the present by the voice of his son.

"Don't worry, he will survive."

"We've all been through something like this before." Tex chimed in.

Slowly everyone was sharing hangover stories, each one more bizarre than the last. Waking up on a shelf, inside a washing machine, under the bed, inside the bathtub, in the fire escape of the building, undressed, nothing unusual about it except that the person in question was in the neighbor's garden.…The worst story was that of Jake who woke up in a container about to be shipped to China.

"You didn't know that," Rachel said, seeing the surprise on her friend's face as she listened to her husband's story

"No," Elena said, "my husband still manages to surprise me."

"I was young and stupid."

"You're still young, husband."

Tex said in a playful tone. "So…what did the boy do?"

A flicker of amusement crossed Rachel's face, but she quickly suppressed it. "Nothing,""she said.

"Did he say something embarrassing?" Tex asked.

"No," she said, unable to hide her smile. "He is cute even when he's drunk."

The men groaned in protest.

"What? It's a compliment."

"Not to a guy."

"Jake!"

"Sorry, but I agree with them," he said. "Puppies are cute."

Danny joined in the conversation. "Babies are cute,"he says, exchanging a loving glance with his wife

"Stuffed animals are cute," Kara said.

"Pandas are cute," Tom said.

"Rabbits are cute," Burk said.

"Wool socks…" Cruz said.

She raised her hands in surrender. "Okay. Okay, I think I get the picture."

Everyone laughed.

Alicia started to sing again.

_What would I do without your smart mouth  
Drawing me in, and you kicking me out_

Elena's eyes lit up. "Let's dance, husband."

"Dance? No. Elena, wait," he said as his wife pulled him by the hand.

_My head's under water  
But I'm breathing fine_

"But no one is dancing," he still tried to argue, but he surrendered, allowing her to drag him onto the open area that was considered a dance floor.

_Loves all of you_

_Love your curves and all your edges_

_All your perfect imperfections_

"Rachel, they're playing our song."

"We do not have a song, Tex," she said with a light chuckle.

"How do you know? It may be something you forgot."

He does not treat her with kid gloves. She likes it.

_You're my end and my beginning_

_Even when I lose I'm winning_

"We've been to a party before." Tex paused for a moment to let his words sink in and then added with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "We sat on the beach watching a spectacular sunset, very romantic."

The memory was once again clear and crisp in her mind.

_Alicia was singing, there was a bonfire, some people were in bathing suits and everybody was drinking… water._

"You're a terrible liar, Tex," she said fondly.

"Oh, you know me." Tex said.

"Yes. I certainly do now."

_It was good to see her happy and comfortable around them, _Tom thought.

He took a sip of his drink and remembered the conversation with his father a few weeks ago.

"_He is in love with her." Jed said._

"_If you're trying to make me feel better, it's not working, Dad," Tom said through clenched teeth. _"_Rachel is min_—" _He cut himself off short, and he ran a hand through his hair, trying to fend off his growing frustration._

"_What were you saying?" His father gave him a pointed look._

"_I'm thinking like a goddamn teen in love."_

"_You are in love, son," Jed replied, stating the obvious._

"_I don't like feeling that way…"_

"_Jealous of Rachel?"_

"_Yeah. What if I do something stupid because of those feelings?"_

"_Did you do or say something when you found them together that could be misinterpreted?"_

"_No, I don't think so."_

"_Are you sure?" _

"_Yes, I'm sure."_

_Jed laughed and patted his son's shoulder affectionately. "See, everything's fine. Let's go back to the living room. The children and our two guests must be wondering how long it takes for two adults to find a bottle of aspirin."_

_Tom rubbed his right temple, which had begun to pound with a real headache and followed his father into the living room, where the children were chatting animatedly with Tex, under Rachel's amused gaze._

_She thought he heard Tom sighing, but she couldn't be sure. He seemed tense and tired she noticed, it must be the headache she rationalized._

"_Are you okay dad?" Ashley asked._

"_I'll be fine," Tom said. "I'm just tired and stressed."_

"_You've been under a lot of pressure lately," Tex said._

"_We've both been under a lot of pressure lately," Tom retorted._ "_Do you think we can handle it?"_

"_No matter what happens, we will both be fine."_

_Tex and Tom—gave each other a look. Rachel looked from one to the other, feeling like she was missing part of what was being said._

_Jed looked around, a faint smile curved his lips, then crossed the kitchen and opened cabinets._

"_What are you looking for grandpa?" Sam asked._

_"This," he said as he took a bottle of aspirin out of the cabinet. "I knew I had saved it somewhere."_

_The old fox, Tom thought fondly._

"_Dad, can Tex stay for lunch?" Sam asked._

"_Here it is, son," Jed said, handed __him two aspirins and a glass of water._ _Tom gave his father a grateful look and took a sip of water. Then he swallowed the two pills and finished the water._

"_Dad?" Sam asked._

"_Of course, buddy,_ _a friend is always welcome in our home."_

She liked Tex, the friendship between them was easy, uncomplicated, it had been this way from the start. And since she came back, she always seemed more at ease, more relaxed in his company than with anyone else. She was not interested in him before, but feelings can change.

He's so in love with her and he needs her back. But sometimes Tom wonders if it will happen.

This uncertainty made his chest tighten painfully.

She felt Tom's eyes upon her and she glared at him. His brows were drawn into a frown. He looked so serious. Concern etched his features. The glass he held in danger of breaking under the pressure of his fingers.

His eyes shifted to hers, she watched him, a small crease forming between her brows, and a silent question in her brown eyes. She's worried about him, he can tell. His lips curved into a small smile and he gave a slight shake of his head, _it's nothing,_ his look said.

She smiled softly, her lips quirking noticeably as she maintained eye contact.

He smiled slowly at her again, and then he raised his glass and drank a silent toast.

When he looked at her like this, something vulnerable in his considerable features made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

"You could ask me for anything right now and it's yours."

_Hold on a second. Did she just say that out loud?_

If Tom didn't know her better, he'd think it was a panicked face.

A few seconds passed before Rachel realized who had said that. Jake pulled his chair out and sat down with an exaggerated sigh. Elena sat down next to her husband with a radiant smile.

"Anything?" Elena asked hopefully.

"Not that," Jake manages to garble out. "Don't ask me to dance again."

People looked at the couple with varying degrees of fun.

"I'm sure I'll be able to persuade you," she said lightly.

"Oh God!" Jake gave a long-suffering sigh.

"Then let's drink to it, shall we?" Tex laughed and raised his glass. "To what we do for love."

"Friendship", Rachel said, raising her glass.

"Family," Jed said.

"New beginnings," Tom said, clinking his glass against hers.

SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH SCOTCH

* * *

Love it? Hate it? Leave a word.


	12. Another Accident

**Chapter 12 - Another Accident**

**Author's Notes: **Hello to our fellow Scotch lovers who are in lockdown or self-quarantine or homestay! We hope all of you are keeping safe in your own homes. After a busy week at work from home, here is another update for all of you. **Acalanto** has basically written this story until the end, just short of 1 epilogue and believe you me, this is one great story. That is the reason why I agreed to edit for her to have this reposted. Enjoy & stay safe! Don't go ahead of the virus! LOL.

* * *

The screech of the tires.

Fear.

A frightened cry.

Shock.

Sound of glass breaking.

When the car finally stops, the silence is deafening.

He blinked, trying to steady the world that circled around him. He groaned in agony.

He fumbled around with the seat belt until he could get the clasp to release. Then he leaned toward the woman in the passenger seat, and brushed the hair from her face, trying to wake her up. Nothing. Her eyes remained closed. Scared as hell, he saw blood staining the front of her shirt.

He fought to stay conscious, but it was a losing battle. He whispered her name with regret, before losing consciousness.

He had no idea how much time passed, but as he was dragged back into consciousness, he heard voices.

"I think your foot is definitely broken ..."

The pain was throbbing in his ears; he was not sure which part of his body hurt more. Everything seemed indistinct, as if his brain were wrapped in cotton wool. He's forgetting something important, but what?

"She has a small laceration in her scalp…"

"Is she going to be okay?" a male voice asked.

"Head injuries bleed a lot because of all the blood vessels there. Without fractures in the legs and arms."

"The ambulance is on its way."

"Thank you, officer."

"I think he's waking up."

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* * *

**Earlier that day…...**

"Are you sure?"

_No. In fact she wanted to run._

Instead she straightened her posture, lifted her chin, and met his gaze. "Yes, they will not give up and I'm tired of hiding."

They had this discussion a few days ago. The reports have gotten wind that Dr. Scott has returned from the dead, so to speak, and have been hounding her and Tom's family for days. As Rachel was not keen to go out of the house, Tom's father and children have borne the brunt of their hounding. Finally, Rachel has decided that they should hold a press conference to satisfy the press' curiosity. Tom was not so keen on her plan and was very concerned for her state of being. But Rachel pushed until Tom relented. And now here they are.

They entered the crowded room, full of reporters who were eager to see her, it was her first public appearance since her return. Watching the crowd of reporters and TV cameras made it difficult to control her nervousness. Tom walked up to the make-shift stage with Rachel following right behind him. Her entrance caused a certain tumult, quickly restrained by the soldiers present in the room.

He pulled out a chair for her and as she sat down, he leaned towards her speaking quietly, "Relax; they do not bite, and if they, did remember that I'm armed. They have to go through my dead body first before they can reach you."

She already knows him well enough to know that he will not do it. But her body relaxed, her lips curving into a small smile.

Then Tom took his own seat. He adjusted the microphone slightly as he started to speak. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. You were all invited to be here today because I'm tired of your attempts to see and talk to Dr. Scott. The last one was just ridiculous."

Everyone in the room laughed out loud at that statement.

"You cannot deny that Casey looked cute in a woman's dress," one of the reporters commented sarcastically.

"With those hairy legs, he would not fool my grandmother, and she's blind, another reporter said.

Casey McKenna was really embarrassed, everyone else in the room laughed at his expense, but then he saw the funny side of it. The picture of him dressed as a woman was in every newspaper in town. _Humiliating? Definitely, but it was necessary to make some sacrifice for the career, right?_

Because of him, his colleagues were here, having the opportunity to see and talk to her, a woman whom everyone thought was dead. Dr. Rachel Scott.

"Okay. This is the deal," said Tom. "You talk to her today, take some pictures and then leave her alone. If I meet some of you on base again, I'll consider it as an attempted invasion, my soldiers have orders to shoot. Is that clear?"

"Yes," replied a chorus of voices. Most of them were thinking that she was not going to be hiding in the base forever. A photo or two would not hurt anyone.

"Excellent," Tom said. "Well, let's begin."

"Before answering your questions, I'd like to say one thing to my friends, Jake and Elena," Rachel started. "How can I thank you? You saved my life in so many ways. Thank you. For everything."

The reporter directed a question to Tom. "How do you feel about this? What's it like to have her back?"

"Happy and grateful that she is alive. As a friend, I'm going to do my best to help her anyway I can," he said easily.

"What do you think of the Admiral's statement?" asked an older reporter, raising his hand and smiling in her direction.

"I can only thank him; everyone here has been very kind to me and very generous, and supportive."

"Hi, Dr. Scott, Trevor Brown, St. Louis American. How long do you intend to stay here?

"I don't know, probably until I have my memories back. The trauma that caused my memory loss happened here and I hope that the answers are also here."

"How do you feel since you came back?"

"Useless, I'm not doing anything here, it's frustrating."

She had read all the reports on the vaccine, although she recognizes her handwriting in those reports, it's still strange. She has a hard time believing, she still does not feel Rachel Scott.

"Doctor, your work saved thousands of lives. I think you can take some vacation for the rest of your life."

"I don't want vacations, I want my life back," she replied, her voice harsher than she intended. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude. Admiral Chandler told me I'm a workaholic; maybe this side is closer to the surface."

"Do you believe in everything he says?"

"Everything? God, no! We already had some differences of opinion, but I trust him. I've no reason to think otherwise."

"Why did you go to the cemetery?"

_How did they know that?_ She asked herself. The fact should not surprise her; they seemed intent on knowing everything about her life.

"I thought I could get some answers there."

"Did you find the answers you were looking for?"

"Yes, I remembered the name of the woman that was in captivity with me. I remembered her eyes, the fear I saw in them."

"Anyone under these conditions would be, Dr. Scott."

"Do you remember her name?"

"Lizzy. Her name was Lizzy."

"Are you investigating to find out her identity, Admiral?"

"Yes. There is a family out there that deserves to know the truth."

She poured herself a glass of water.

"Do you have any clues?"

"As the investigation is ongoing, I'd prefer not to say more at the moment."

"Did you remember anything else, Dr. Scott?"

"I remember waking up in a pool of my blood. Dizzy, confused, in a lot of pain. But instinctively I knew I had to get out of that house. And that's what I did."

"Do you remember where that house is?"

Tom had not told her, but hoping to find out more about what had happened to her, he and Mike had done an investigation. With the information Jake had given them about where he had found her. They had discovered the house where she had been held captive.

The scenario they found was worthy of a horror movie. There was dried blood on the floor, on the ropes, and on the corner of the table. The marks of her feet on the floor, telling part of the story. She must have stepped on her own blood, because the marks on the floor matched the size of her feet. Mike theorized that somehow she had managed to cut the ropes, the blood on the knife they found pointed in that direction. And then she'd tripped and banged her head on the table.

In his career as a detective, Mike had investigated several cases of abduction and had seen several crime scenes. Tom trusted his friend's experience. Mike had collected some fingerprints on the spot. Maybe they could finally find out who had died in that accident.

"No. It was dark and I was desperate to flee. Placing one foot in front of the other exhausted all my energy reserves. I must have passed out. The next thing I remember, I was waking up looking at a dog."

"That's when you found Jake Evans, right?"

"It would be more correct to say that he found me."

"How did you know that you could trust him?"

"Instinct is something innate; it is our intelligence in its most primitive degree. Survival instincts made me want to run away from that house. My instincts told me that I could trust Jake."

"How can you speak like a scientist, but don't remember your own name? "

"I'm a scientist. My memories are buried in my subconscious, but they're still here," she says, tapping two fingers on the side of her head.

"You stayed at the Evans house for weeks. Why didn't you try to find out your identity?"

"My injuries were serious, in the early days, I was in a haze of pain, or unconscious."

"And after?

"I was afraid of what I might find." She was afraid of what lurks in the shadows of her past, and to be honest with herself, she still is. "Someone had tried to kill me."

"How did you know that?"

She was answering the questions easily, but a more attentive observer would notice her tension and discomfort**.** Talking about the kidnapping was not easy. A direct interference from him would not be welcome. But maybe there was another way to help her. It was time to use a diversionary tactic. Give journalists something more interesting to focus on. He just needed an opening.

"For the nurse who took care of me, it was clear that my injuries had not been self-inflicted. And were not compatible with an accident."

"How was your meeting with Admiral Chandler?"

Rachel looked at Tom and said, "Difficult. It was strange to look at someone from my past and still, not to remember anything."

"It seems that your conversation with him was friendly, because you agreed to go back with him."

Rachel and Tom stared at each other, both remembering their first meeting at Jake and Elena's house.

"I wouldn't call it friendly," Rachel said. "We argued… heatedly."

"Why?"

"Well, he was a stranger to me, who seemed to know more about my life than I did. A man who seemed to believe that I should return with him immediately, arguing that it was not safe for me to stay with the only people I knew, practically _demanding_ that I return with him. I was scared and it motivated me to fight."

"Do you still see him as a stranger?'

"He is not a stranger anymore, though I still do not remember him ."

"What did you do to convince her, Admiral?"

There was the opening he was waiting for.

"Well, she was not very willing to go back with me, so I did what I thought was necessary, I got down on my knees and begged her."

_He held an important position, he was a man accustomed to wielding power, to giving orders. Why was he exposing himself like this?_ Then she saw the excitement on the journalists' faces, salivating like dogs who were offered a very juicy dish and they could barely wait to snatch the tidbit.

_Diversionary tactic._

He had fed the journalists' greed for gossip and that had distracted them from the main focus. The story of her kidnapping.

"Is that true?" the journalist asked, sounding skeptical of the Admiral's statement.

"This is a joke, right? Are you playing with us?"

"Yes," Rachel said.

"No," Tom said at the same time.

Trevor has been a reporter for almost four decades, unlike most reporters in the room; full of enthusiasm, but without the experience to avoid being manipulated by the Admiral. _Because that was what he was doing, drawing attention to himself, to protect her. And she was doing the same. Although she does not remember who she is. They were clearly in tune with each other. It would be very interesting to see how this relationship would evolve._

She smiled at him warmly.

"See, as I said before, Captain Chandler and I don't always agree."

"Are you sure you don't remember him?" Case asked, "You just called him Captain."

"I did?" she asked, looking at Tom for a moment. "I'm sorry, Admiral."

"It's okay, Rachel. You can call me whatever you want."

Her smile widened. Her head was telling her it was a really, really bad idea, flirting with him in front of the cameras. But, at the moment, she didn't care.

"Are you sure? Maybe you want to reconsider, I have many witnesses here."

"Positive," he gave her a warm smile.

"There seems to be a story behind this, would you care to share? Dr. Scott? Admiral?"

"No," they responded in unison.

"No more questions for today, ladies and gentlemen, this interview is over," Tom announced, getting up from his chair. Rachel followed suit.

The journalists complained and a flurry of hands went up, asking for a few more minutes as Rachel and Tom stepped off the podium and walked out of a side door past a guard.

Then they are alone in one of the holding rooms waiting for things to calm down a bit so they can leave.

"Do you think they believed what I said?" she asked. "I didn't think it would be so hard."

She turned away and set to pacing the room.

"You did well," he said.

She snorted and kept pacing. "I don't know about that, what I do know is that you felt the need to come to my rescue."

He smiled.

"Excellent diversionist tactic by the way," she said.

"It worked," he said with a soft grin towards her.

"Maybe too much." Rachel muttered under her breath. Out loud she said, "Now they think we have some kind of relationship."

_Would it be so bad to have a relationship with me?_ He almost asked, but he controlled himself in time.

He stepped in front her, stopping her pacing. She glared at him.

"We have," he said.

She stared into his eyes, letting herself be lost in them.

"Huh?"

He held her eyes, "A relationship. You and I," he says softly.

Suddenly, they were too close, not really knowing how they got in that position. She bit anxiously at her bottom lip as she felt his hot breath against her face.

"We are friends."

"Friends?" she asked in a whisper.

"I can be whatever you want me to be," he said, his eyes never leaving her face.

Acting on an impulse, he slipped his arm around her waist and gently pulled her to him. Rachel's eyes widened, surprise on her face. She rested her hand against his chest, not stopping him, but not encouraging him, either. Then he lowered his head; slowly as if giving time to her to move away, but she didn't. A low moan escaped her lips when he brushed his lips over hers. Tom took that as her consent and joined his lips to hers softly. His tongue courted her soft lips tenderly, caressing them to open up to him. With a sigh, Rachel opened her lips to him and felt her knees weaken as his tongue made contact with her own. She felt her breath leave her lungs at the intensity with which Tom made love to her mouth. She felt his strong arms around her, bringing her body flush to his hard one.

Tom could hardly believe that he finally has Rachel in his arms and that she was allowing him to kiss her. He cannot get enough of her taste or the feel of her body flushed against his. He can feel his desire for her rolling over him in waves. He can feel her hands behind his neck and on his head, running softly over his hair. Just then, Rachel pulled her mouth away from his to catch her breath, but only allowed her a few seconds before bringing her mouth back to his. This time, his hands roamed over her back and buttocks while he kissed her more deeply, groaning deeply at his own explorations.

A loud knock on the door made them both jump. The two nearly smacked heads, startled at the sudden interruption. They were eyeing each other, Tom had not released Rachel and Rachel's arms moved from his neck to his chest.

"Sir, we're ready to go."

Hearing the reminder from the soldier, Rachel blushed furiously, bowed her head and tried to disengage herself from his arms.

"No…wait," he says, trying to hold her, but he knew it was too late. She had already turned away, making a point to focus on anything but him. Silently, he uttered every single curse he knew in English and… Russian. It took all of his willpower not to haul her back to his arms.

"Sir?"

He took a second to inhale-exhale once more in a bid to reclaim his composure. When he answered, his voice sounded strained and hoarse even to his own ears. "Give us a minute."

"Of course, sir."

"Rachel," he started, walking towards her figure.

She raised her eyes to meet his, a faint blush still on her cheeks.

"I… I, uh…" He could not think of anything to say. _I'm sorry, he definitely was not._ He couldn't help thinking how good it has been to hold her in his arms. _Are you okay?_ It would be a stupid question. Her whole life has been turned upside down. _Can I kiss you again? _The way she's looking at him now, she would surely run away from him. The spark is still there. Time. She needed time, and somehow he'd make sure she got it. "Do you want to talk ab—"

"No!" she said, her voice a little unsteady. "Can we go now? Please…"

"Sure," Tom said with resignation.

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* * *

He slowly regained consciousness, his mind confused, and it hurt when he breathed.

"It's okay, just lie down, ambulance is on the way."

He, still a bit confused, tried the best he could to focus. "Everything hurts!"

"You'll be fine," the stranger replied with a reassuring smile.

"What is your name?"

"His name is Tobias", the girl replied by opening her eyes. "Oh God! My head hurts…"

"Nausea? blurred vision?" the woman asked.

"No, just a headache."

"Tobias?"

"Fucking brilliant…" he closed his eyes; it hurt to keep them open.

"I need you to stay awake for me," she said. "You probably have a concussion."

"I'm sorry, Julie, I'm so sorry…"

The adults exchanged an amused look as the two teenagers sighed unhappily.

Tobias looked at the woman next to Julie, and back at the man beside him. They were so familiar, he had seen them somewhere, he was sure.

He widened his eyes as the information clicked into his brain. "You're the Doctor who came back from the dead. We heard your interview on the radio. Julie thinks you two should date, that you're perfect for each other."

"Tobias…"Julie spoke his name as a warning and her embarrassed expression said, shut up

He widened his eyes when he realized that he had said too much and made an "Oh!"

"He looks well, alert and attuned to the danger." Tom said.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

The siren sounds louder and more shrill as the ambulance approaches them. Two paramedics jumped out the vehicle and grabbed their supplies out of the back before hurrying over.

"You're not dying, Tobias," Tom said.

"I'm not so sure," he said softly. Then he raised his head and looked at Julie. "I'm sorry you have to see this."

"What do we have here?" one of the paramedics began and his eyes widened when they saw who the two were beside the victims, but he recovered quickly.

Tom walked away so that the other paramedic could examine the teenager and watched Rachel as she spoke to the paramedics.

After witnessing the accident, she had run towards the car of the victims before he could even stop her. Tom had seen her act without hesitation, examining the two teenagers with the competence he had seen her demonstrate so many times during the mission when her medical knowledge had been demanded. During those minutes, he had seen Dr. Rachel Scott in action. Had the accident awakened her memory?

While answering questions from paramedics, she could feel Tom's eyes on her. They had seen the driver lose control of the car crossing the street and crashing into a tree. In those few minutes when she witnessed the accident, memories of blood and death assaulted her senses with stunning clarity. And another memory came to the surface.

As she walked back to the car with Tom beside her, she could hear the whispers and speculations of the people who had witnessed the fact.

She looked directly at him, and answered his silent question.

"I remember."

"Everything?"

"No, it seems I have not forgotten my medical training, after all."

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* * *

"The press conference looked like a success," Jed commented to Tom as he welcomed him home, "I just saw it on the local channel."

Tom sighed heavily and ran a tired hand over his nape. "Yes, I think it was."

"So how come you look so miserable? Did anything happen to Rachel?" Jed inquired with a frown.

"Well….something did happen after the conference...I think I moved too fast..I must have scared Rachel…" he muttered. "She wouldn't even talk to me when we left and I drove her home."

Jed was quiet, just watching his son leaning on the sofa with his eyes closed.

"Well, I will not pry what it is that happened between you and Rachel but you may want to consider it from her point of view…."

Tom turned sharply to his father, "What do you mean?"

Jed shrugged, "I mean, I am sure she thought it not good to be doing something with a man who still wears his wedding ring despite his wife being already dead."

Tom sat up with an aghast look before burying his face on his hands.

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* * *

_Love it? Hate it? Leave a word._


	13. Just Dinner

**Chapter 13 - Just Dinner**

**Author's Note: A light and fluffy chapter after all the drama from the previous chapters. Stay safe, everyone, and enjoy! **

* * *

He kissed the top of her head, sliding his fingers through the soft strands of her hair.

"You worry too much," she said, looking Tom in the eyes, giving him a slight smile.

"It will be a difficult conversation," he said.

"Something tells me that you will be surprised."

"We were happy, weren't we?" he asked.

"Yes, we were. But it's time for you to move on."

"I need ..." he started to say, but the words stuck in his throat

"I know all your regrets, Tom," Darien said, "it's okay, love, let go."

"Good—bye, love."

She gives him a soft smile. "Give my love to our children."

"Always."

He woke up with tears in his eyes. He had gone to the office to make some calls and ended up falling asleep on the couch and dreaming of Darien. When he took off the wedding ring, it hurt in a way he wasn't prepared for. He hadn't realized that keeping the ring had been a way to keep his wife alive. _It's over, _were the words that came to his mind.

She had been his companion, lover and confidant for more than a decade.

He wept for her, for them, for the end of their love story.

During dinner his father was the first to notice. The children also noticed. He explained that he would always love their mother, that she would always have a place in his heart but that he liked Rachel as well.

Their reaction both surprised and touched him.

"Mom would want you to be happy, Dad, " Ashley said.

"I like her, she's cool." Sam said. "Do you want to go out on a date with Rachel?"

"I just need to convince her to give me a chance."

"I can ask her," Sam offered to his Dad.

"Thanks, buddy," he said, "I can handle it." Then he pulled the kids into a tight hug, "I love you both so much."

He exchanged a watery smile with his father over the children's head.

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* * *

"No one goes through this door," he ordered the two soldiers, "and if anyone does, there'll be hell to pay, is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir!."

He closed the door softly behind him and walked with determined steps along the corridor. He is a man on a mission. He only stopped for a few seconds to turn off his phone. He doesn't want distractions or interruptions on what he needs to do.

He took a moment to simply watch her, not for the first time marveling at the fact that she is alive and so close to him again. Well, not as close as he would like, but he hoped he could change that in the very near future.

She knows he is there, but she doesn't turn. Instead, she continued to pack up some medical supplies. When it became apparent that she remembered her medical training, Dr. Rios insisted that she could help him. She was reluctant at first, but ended up accepting as that would give her something useful to do.

She saw him in the last few days, but never alone. There were always other people around. Now here they are alone in a room that barely fits a person. And he is standing between her and the exit.

"You've been avoiding me like the plague for the past three days," he said, leaning against the doorframe.

"I've been busy," she said without lifting her eyes to meet his.

"Yes, I've noticed that," he said.

She thought of telling him to leave, but in two steps, he had closed the distance between them.

"Can we talk?" he asked, gently removing the clipboard from her hands. "I promise you, I'll be the perfect gentleman."

"Okay." She sounded resigned. "Can we do it elsewhere? You take up a lot of space."

He gave her a devilishly charming smile. "Sorry," he said, taking a step back.

"No, you're not."

The corners of his mouth twitched with a suppressed smile and then he gestured toward the door, "Lead the way, Doctor. "

She recognized a challenge when she saw one. She paused as she passed him and looked up into eyes. "Gentleman, my ass," Rachel said. "You are enjoying this."

He could deny it, but he knew it would be useless. He just gave her a smile and followed her into another room.

She crossed her arms and said, "So, you wanted to talk, talk."

He had rehearsed what to say, how to say it, but now the words seemed inappropriate in his head.

"Why do you think I kissed you?" he blurted out.

"This thing between us." She said, gesturing to the space between their bodies. "Physical attraction, chemistry, whatever you want to call it. It's strong."

"So you feel the same way," he says, trying not to sound euphoric.

"Apparently we are physically compatible, you and me."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"No. Just—disconcerting." She struggled to explain. "I don't remember you, but it seems that my body does, which makes me think…Was it like this before?"

When did caring and admiration become attraction and attraction became something else? It's a difficult question to answer. If there was something more physical between them before? Yeah. They had kissed, or rather, she had kissed him, and it made him feel things that a married man shouldn't feel. But saying that would bring Niels into this story. And at the moment he doesn't need that kind of complication.

"Well… Umm… no…there was nothing between us before. Not like that."

"What were we then?"

"Allies who became friends. A very stubborn friend, I must say. You did not facilitate my work; I practically had to explain every order I gave. And then..." she feels her pulse quicken under the intensity of his gaze. He seemed to be looking for the right words. The words he was prepared to say, she was not yet ready to hear yet. The way she ran away from him after the kiss proved it.

"I don't just want to be your friend, Rachel."

"Tom-."

He smiled wider and he leaned closer. "I love the way you say my name."

"Admiral," she protested weakly,putting one hand flat on his chest, intending to push him away. Never taking his eyes from hers**,** he captured her hand with his and pressed it against his chest.

His heart is beating faster under the palm of her hand; his pupils are dilated as his eyes linger on her mouth. She blinks, swallowing down a dry throat.

Then she pulled her hand free and he let her go.

"Would you like to go for dinner next Saturday?" he asked.

She let out a nervous laugh. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

He felt his palms sweating. "Yes." He flashed his most persuasive smile. "No pressure. No expectations. Just dinner."

Seeing her hesitation, he added, "I won't ever do anything you don't want me to do."

"I know," she said in a low voice. _It's not your desires I'm afraid of._

She doesn't want to get hurt herself. She doesn't want to hurt him. But maybe it's time to stop running. Maybe reality will destroy the illusion and she can get him out of her head, although something tells her it won't be that easy. He has kissed her only once and it was good. The spine-tingling, toe-curling type of good. One she feels she will be craving for.

She was quiet for a few beats before saying mildly, _"_Okay. I accept your invitation."

Tom's smile threatened to split his face in half. It took every ounce of strength he had not to kiss her.

"Great! I know a great place."

"Right!" she said.

"I took off the ring," he said belatedly. Raising his left hand towards her.

Rachel snorted. "As if each person on this base hasn't already told me that."

He smiled with amusement. "Subtle, huh?"

"Subtle as a herd of elephants in a crystal shop."

A laugh escaped him as he imagined the scene.

She laughed at her own metaphor before asking, "Is it dress-up or casual?"

He could imagine her in a dress, hell, he had done more than just imagine it, he had dreamed of it.

_She was looking stunning in a black long dress and silk black shoes with stiletto heels, a slit along one side of the dress giving him a tantalizing glimpse of a long and shapely leg._

She coughed, a blush colouring her face, and he was snapped out of his dreams.

He clears his throat, but his voice still comes out raspy when he speaks. "Definitely dress-up. Well…" he paused, "I better go now."

"I need to get back to work as well," she said.

A soft smile was playing on her face as she watched him walk away with a spring in his step.

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* * *

"It's just dinner, Bertrise," Rachel said while putting the finishing touches to her makeup.

"It's not just dinner," Bertrise said, "it's a date with the Admiral."

Sometimes she doesn't know who was more excited about this dinner, whether she or the whole of Nathan James' crew. It had been difficult to deal with all the help that was coming her way.

She was carefully applying lipstick when the doorbell rang.

He had arrived early.

"Please tell him I'll be down in five minutes."

"I still don't know—" Suddenly, Tom stopped talking mid-sentence. Bertrise understood why with Rachel coming down the stairs. Head up, one hand lightly touching the railing of the stairs, a soft smile on her lips. _How could she do that with those high heels? Elegant and self-assured?_ Bertrise decided that she needed to learn how to do that, too.

While going down the stairs she just prayed to God, _don't let me stumble_ repeatedly.

Tom couldn't take his eyes off her as she approached. If he wasn't already on his knees, he certainly would be now.

She was wearing a dark green midi dress with slender straps that show off her bare shoulders and collarbone. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, exposing her delicate neck. Her makeup was light and her lips were perfectly painted.

"Wow! You look fantastic!" He said, touching a lock of hair falling on her face

"Um, thanks," she said. "You look…different. I don't remember seeing you in regular clothes." He was wearing dark trousers and a white long shirt with a coat over it. While it was not his regular navy uniform, he still looked very distinguished. His coat bringing out the blue of his eyes.

"I take off my uniform on special occasions," he teased her.

"Bath of the week?" she teased back.

He laughed, knowing that she would remember the conversation.

Bertrise alternated her gaze between the two adults who seemed to have forgotten that she was there.

"Can we go?" he asked.

"Just a few more minutes, Jeter is in one of his counseling sessions and I don't want Bertrise to be alone."

"Hey, I don't need babysitting."

"He's arrived," Tom said. "He's out there with our escorts, Cruz and Wolf."

When they left, she greeted the three soldiers, Wolf and Cruz responded, but Miller's jaw dropped to see Dr. Scott in a dress.

Wolf gave a discreet push to his friend to put him out of the trance and respond, "Good evening, Ma'am."

His young friend probably had a crush on Dr. Scott. Since she had demonstrated to them a long time ago how to spread the contagious cure using Miller as an example, since then, Miller could not stop drooling when she was around.

"I already said you can call me Rachel, Miller."

He smiled at her, but when he met his commander's gaze, his smile dropped as quickly as it had appeared.

She fought not to roll her eyes. Men.

"What do you have planned for tonight?" she asked as she fastened her seat belt.

"I would like to take you to a restaurant, but…"

"I know, the logistics would be a nightmare."

To buy the dress, Sabrina, the daughter of the city judge, and the owner of a women's clothing store, had brought the clothes to the Greens' house. Val and Kara had helped her choose and fit each one of the dresses Sabrina has brought.

"Sorry."

"I'm sure I won't be disappointed."

"No pressure, huh?" he said, setting the vehicle in motion.

"A man like you can handle the pressure."

"God help me!" she heard him whisper.

A few minutes passed and she seemed distracted by the landscape outside the window. She realized that they were moving away from the city center.

He inhaled and the soft scent of her perfume enveloped him. She shifted, crossing her legs and he gripped the steering wheel, very aware of the woman sitting next to him. Rachel had done justice to all the jeans she had been wearing while on the ship. But her in a dress is a dream to behold.

It had been impossible not to notice how his hand tightened on the steering wheel when she crossed her legs, the look of pure male appreciation that made her body tingle in response.

He inhaled again and relaxed his grip on the wheel. In his peripheral vision, he saw that she had a smile on her lips.

He stopped at a red light, turned to face her. "What?"

"I'm just thinking."

"About?"

_I like the way you look at me.__ No way is she going to tell him that._

_Say something witty and intelligent._

"Miller."

_She gave herself a mental kick. Bloody hell! He had turned her brain to mush._

"Miller?" he repeated, sounding incredulous.

"Shouldn't have said anything," she said. "Forget it."

On the green light, he started the car again.

"I saw the way he looked at you."

"He's young and impressionable," she said, desperate to change the subject. "Did you never have a crush when you were younger?"

"Of course," he said.

"And?"

He looked at her as if asking, _do you really want to know that?_

"I have very little to share, well I can describe the technique to the primary suture of a wound."

"No, thanks, " he responded quickly.

She smiled.

"Well. I was in 5th grade back then, 10 years old, new to the school as my dad got transferred to a new base. I was upset and nervous. My teacher introduced me to the class, then told me to say something about myself. God! I hated that part…" He was thoughtful for a few seconds.

Looking at the confident man he is now it was easy to forget that he had been a frightened child on his first day at a new school.

"I was doing as I was told when my eyes landed on her. She had dark curly hair, big brown eyes and caramel-colored skin. Then she smiled at me, and I thought she looked like an angel."

"Oh! This is so cute," she said. He moaned dramatically. "Sorry I used the dreaded word. What was her name?"

"Veronica," he said, "Veronica Gillard."

"That's a beautiful name for an angel." She said. "How did she react when you told her?"

"I didn't say."

Rachel looked disappointed. "Really?"

"She was always in the company of other girls, so I never approached her, although I think my interest did not go unnoticed, because I couldn't take my eyes off her. When her father was transferred two months later, I was really upset."

"Did you meet again?"

"Yeah. I didn't see her anymore until many years later, when we were in high school. Her smile was still very beautiful, the same irresistible dimples."

Rachel raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"That fascination that I had felt was no longer there. She and I became very close friends very fast, but friendship was all we shared. Well, that, and career choice."

"Is she a soldier?"

"Army."

"Where are we?" she asked when she realized he had slowed down. He had stopped in front of a large, iron gate that opened as soon as he slowed the car. No doubt they were expected. Once past the gate the car drove up a winding trail that led to the front of a lovely house in Spanish colonial style. Her mind sometimes accesses surprising information.

Before he could answer, a well-known figure opened the front door.

"Elijah," she said.

"Hello, Dr. Scott", he said, "Welcome to my home."

She smiled. "Thank you. Your house is lovely."

"And you haven't even seen what we have prepared for you." Elijah turned and smiled at Tom.

"Good evening, Elijah."

He led them into the garden. A charming pergola with white and red climbing roses. A table set for two under the soft light emitted by the small lamps placed at strategic points in the structure.

"I will let him know that you have arrived," Elijah said, stepping away.

"Who?"

"Bacon," Tom said as he pulled out her chair and waited for her to sit.

"Have I told you how spectacular you look tonight?" he leaned down and whispered close to her ear.

"You have, thanks." She looked to her side up to him to meet his smiling eyes. She smiled with her dimples showing.

She was so focused on Tom that she failed to notice Bacon's arrival with a food-laden cart.

"Good evening, Dr. Scott," Bacon greeted her.

"Good evening, Bacon," she returned with a smile.

"Can I serve the first dish, Sir?"

"What do you think, Rachel?"

"Absolutely, the smell of the food is excellent." She replied, hoping that her voice sounded normal.

Bacon served the first dish and disappeared back into the house.

They talked while enjoying the delicious meal. He shared some stories about his life. Through these stories in the small details that he let slip, she realized it had been difficult for him to balance family and career over the years.

She smiled and took a sip of wine when she heard him about his first hangover.

She laughed. "It's hard to imagine Jed being angry; he looks like such a sweet man."

"I was grounded for five weeks. I could only go out to school, no television, no phone, and no friends."

"I'm sure it drove you crazy."

"I had some tasks at home and I started reading books on military strategy and surprisingly I liked it," he admitted.

"Jake likes to read, but prefers astronomy books," she told him.

"Jake is very protective of you," he said "When we were arguing, he just didn't interfere because the others assured him that I would never do anything to hurt you."

She picked up her wine glass swirling the red liquid around before taking a sip. "I was afraid."

"I can understand it," he took a sip of his wine and went on. "I didn't make a very good first impression."

"Really?" She mocks at him, eyes wide. "What makes you think that?

"The fact that you wanted to take my head off," he said, taking another sip.

"You've redeemed yourself afterwards."

"My family, right?"

"It was the sum of some things." The radio conversation with Jake and Elena had been one of them. He had been sensitive to her needs. "But dinner with your family helped for sure. Sam is an adorable kid."

He smiles proudly.

"You can visit him whenever you like," he said with a twinkle to his eyes.

"Nice try, Tom."

His mouth slowly twisted into a would never tire of hearing her say his name.

"Ah, the dessert, thank you, Bacon," he said to the approaching Chef.

"Thanks Bacon, your food was excellent," she complimented him.

She started to eat the cake and found her eyes closing on their own accord, savoring the rich chocolate texture.

It was not the first time he had seen her eat dessert, nor was it the first time that his senses had reacted to the sight. He felt his resolve weakening. He wanted—desperately—to kiss her again.

She opened her eyes to find Tom with his eyes fixed in her mouth. His dessert had remained untouched. Something warm curls low in her belly. "Don't you like your dessert?"

"So you like chocolate, huh?" he asked and dipped his spoon into the bowl.

"What's not to like? It smells good; tastes good, melts in the mouth. Furthermore, it releases dopamine, a chemical released by the brain that plays roles related to pleasure, reward and benefits."

Tom had to exhale deeply and he tugged on his sleeves to keep his attention from her mouth. He focused on finishing his wine while she finished her dessert.

"Would you like to take a brief walk before we head back? The weather's great," Tom invited. Standing up while waiting for Rachel.

"Sure, why not. I need to burn the calories in all that delicious dinner."

Tom eyed her figure before saying, "Nothing wrong from my view here, Rachel."

She blushed.

They walked along Elijah's garden for a few minutes in companionable silence.

Rachel paused and turned to Tom, "I have always wondered what relationship we had while we were on the ship. I know you told me we were allies but I can't help but think that it was an extraordinary time…. I'm not sure if you would have understood my work from the beginning…"

Tom knew that they were going into a dangerous territory. He doesn't want to discuss how she kept her mission a secret, his and the crew's initial mistrust in her and their multiple clashes along the way. In his mind, it is too soon for the truce that they have between them.

"Well, we in the Navy are used to working as a team, even with non-military ones," he replied softly. "I think you missed some of the cake…."

He moved close to her and Rachel saw his thumb moving towards her mouth. She felt his soft thumb on the corner of her lip and his eyes intent on her. For a while, she thought that he would kiss her. But he determinedly stopped and stepped back from her.

"I think it's time we head home," his voice was low and deep.

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When he stopped the car, she took off her seat belt and turned to him. "I really enjoyed tonight."

"I enjoyed your company as well," he said, "and I hope we can do it again."

"**I hope you won****'t ** look at me like that. I'm not her. Not anymore. I'm not the woman that you—" she stopped short.

"Love?" he said quietly.

Caution be damned. Fear be damned. She was tired of denying herself what she wanted.

"That's the tricky part, Tom."

"I don't understand-"

"-I want to be," she cut him off. "But I need us to do this slowly."

"O-K," Tom articulates each syllable, looking confused and unsure. But hopeful as well.

She reached out and placed a hand on his chest. His warm hand covered her own. "What I'm saying is that I want to try. To go out with you. To talk, to get to know each other again."

"To kiss as well?" he asked with a small impish smile.

"I liked your kiss," she said, feeling herself blush at her admission. "But you have to be prepared." _To be disappointed, to wait till the end. _It was unsaid but he understood her unsaid message.

"It may have escaped your notice, but I'm not a boy you can easily scare with your offer."

"It's hard to miss," she said, giving him an appreciative look.

He suddenly found himself tongue-tied. She felt his heart begin to thud furiously beneath her palm.

"You ran away from me for days after our kiss," he said. "What made you change your mind?"

"It wasn't you that I was running away from."

She leaned towards him, her other hand going behind his neck to bring him up close to her. Tom didn't disappoint. He met her halfway and almost hauled her up to his seat. With the console between them, he brought her closer while kissing her deep and hungrily. He can feel Rachel's arms around his neck, responding with fiery passion. He caressed her back and sides. He was so tempted to cup and fondle her breasts but he did not want to be so forward with her. He's letting her lead this time and is willingly following her.

After a few minutes with Tom nuzzling and kissing along her neck, she unwound her arms from him and softly put distance between them. As Tom slowly let her go, he whispered hotly to her, "I have to agree with you that the chocolate tasted decadent."

Rachel felt her body flush at his words. His mouth tasted of the wine they shared earlier. Hers must have been of the chocolate. "I have to go," she said in a flustered way as she turned to open her door.

She was surprised to find Tom at her side helping her out of the car.

"I'll walk you to your door."

"Alright. But just at half of the walkway, I don't want you getting ideas...we already parked for quite some time in front."

Tom grunted at her words but decided to follow her pace. "Okay, just halfway then."

At the halfway point, she turned to him. "Thank you for a lovely evening and delicious food. Please extend it to Bacon and Elijah as well."

Tom smiled at her, his hands in his pockets. "I'll let them know. And thank you for tonight. I hope I can invite you again?"

Rachel smiled at him. "Sure, Tom."

He can't help the grin at hearing his name on her lips. "Thank you, Rachel. Goodnight!"

He watched the sway of her hips as she took a few steps away and turned when she reached the front door. "Goodnight!"

He stood there and waited while she opened and closed her door. Then exhaled a deep and satisfied breath full of elation.

"A good night, indeed!"

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_We're waiting for your review! _


	14. Another Day with You

**Chapter 14 - Another Day with You**

******Authors' Notes: ****Here is another update for your enjoyment! A chapter that is light and fluffy. We hope you are all keeping safe and we'd love to hear your reviews. **

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Rachel looked up from her desk to see a Tom coming in with blood on his head followed by his two worried-looking children."What happened?" Rachel asked, standing up and going over to meet them.

"The baseball that I hit struck his head," Ashley said, "Sorry Dad."

"It's okay, honey," he said.

Rachel led him to the examination corner.

"Sit down," Rachel said as she slipped on a pair of latex gloves. "Let me have a look at it."

"It was my fault, sis, I distracted him," Sam said beside his sister.

"Children! It was nobody's fault," he said. Then he added. "I'm very proud of you, baby. It was beautiful shot."

Rachel pressed her lips together to suppress the smile that threatened to escape her lips. Only a father would be proud that his daughter hitting him over the head with a ball.

She checked his eyes for signs of concussion. "Pupils are equal and reactive," she said.

Then she probed his head carefully and he winced as her fingers came into contact with the wound.

"He's going to be okay, right?" Ashley asked worriedly.

"I just need to clean and disinfect the wound." Rachel said, leaning a little closer to him. "He'll be fine."

Her scent teased his nostrils. It was the same perfume she had used during their first date. The same smell that remains on his uniform after he has her in his arms. A smell that remains in his memory even when she is not around.

She heard him take a deep breath. It couldn't be the pain, he had been through worse. He inhaled again as if he was… drinking. Then she understood. He likes the smell of her perfume. He let this information slip a few days ago when he was kissing her. And he has been doing this a lot lately.

He seems to have a hard time keeping his hands off her and she enjoys every second that they are together.

She sighed softly.

_Focus, Rachel. You can think about it later when he's not bleeding. _

"What's wrong?" Tom asked her when he sensed her quietness.

_Head wounds bleed. A lot. But something didn't make sense in this story. The wound appears to have been done with something sharp._ "Did a ball do this?"

"I hit my head on something sharp when I fell," he explained.

"When the ball hit him." Sam said, "Dad fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes."

Ashley covered her mouth with one hand but it wasn't enough to hide her laughter.

"Reflexes do slow with age," Rachel teased him.

"Hey! I'm not that old. " Tom groused at their coordinated teasing.

She couldn't believe how easy it was being with him. It felt so natural, so right. She was falling in love with him and for the first time in weeks she was not fighting it.

"Ancient," she added.

"Excuse me?"

"Long in the tooth."

"Ouch!" Tom jerked away from her touch and the antiseptic she was using.

"Mature," she said.

"You're walking on thin ice, Doctor," he warned teasingly.

"I think your father doesn't like being called old," she told the kids.

The children were laughing openly now.

She tossed her gloves into the bin and scrubbed her hands at the sink.

"Rachel, guess what?" Sam said. "We are going to visit the Evans' house and you are going with us. Dad said it would be easy to convince you."

"Really?" she asked, looking at Tom with an eyebrow raised.

"That's not exactly what I said, son," Tom chided Sam.

"You said that she thinks I'm cute and she couldn't refuse a request from me."

"I said he can't keep a secret, Dad," Ashley added.

Rachel laughed. "Thomas Chandler, have you no shame?"

"None." He winked at her.

It has been almost four weeks since they had officially started dating. The children were getting more and more comfortable around her. He couldn't be happier.

"I thought you were going to pick up the puppy next week."

Jake had found a dog with a litter of puppies. She recalled that Tom had promised his children a dog and asked if he wanted to adopt one of the puppies.

"Dad is going on a mission," Ashley clarified.

The girl was trying to look brave but anyone could see the fear in her eyes. Rachel looked at Tom, her eyes questioning.

"I'll be gone for four or five days," he said. "There's nothing to worry about, I just need to check the information."

The children had reacted to his departure with concern. Ashley had had a nightmare and Sam had made him promise that he would never leave, too.

"So…" Rachel said, trying to keep her tone relaxed, as though she weren't at all concerned too. "Have you chosen a name for the puppy?"

"Leia."

"Luke."

They said at the same time.

They didn't just differ about the puppy's name. Sam wanted a male dog and his sister a female dog.

"I made the mistake of introducing them to the original Star Wars trilogy," Tom said. She raised an eyebrow. "The Skywalker family saga. You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

"No." Rachel replied.

"Oh, you need to watch, you'll like it, there are spaceships, there's a very scary villain and there are lightsabers,…" Sam said, making noises and movements as if he had a sword

"Princess Leia is a badass," this came from Ashley.

"Language!" Tom chastised his children.

"She's strong, fearless, and she saves the guy and not the other way around."

"A princess who is not a typical damsel in distress," Rachel said. "I like that."

"But Luke is a Jedi," Sam said.

"You like him because he has a sword."

"Lightsaber."

"It's the same thing."

"It's not."

Tom looked at her as if to say, _see what I have to put up with?_

"OK, kids, we will discuss this later. Wait for me outside," he told them. "I need to talk to Rachel for a few minutes."

"Are you going to kiss each other?" Sam asked innocently.

Tom laughed. Rachel had to laugh, too.

"Go!" Tom said.

"If we ask again, will he let us bring two puppies?" They heard Sam ask his sister before they left and closed the door.

"What do you want to talk about?" Rachel asked.

"I just wanted to thank you," he said, lifting her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

"What for?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

He leaned closer, touching his lips against her ear as he whispered, sending a flurry of goosebumps chasing over her skin. "For being kind to my children. For not dying. For giving me a chance. For letting me kiss you…"

"Tom," she purred, squeezing her eyes shut. "We can't do this here."

"Why not?" he asked, gently biting her earlobe.

She tried not to react to his touch but her body apparently hadn't received the memo from her brain and was successfully ignoring her efforts.

"Should I remind you what happened the last time?" she said breathily.

Mason had interrupted them. It had been embarrassing because she was practically on Tom's lap. The boy was as red as his hair. He stammered, "Sorry, sir. Ma'am." She had never seen anyone disappear so quickly in her life.

"Don't worry, honey," he whispered into her ear, "no one will interrupt us again."

She rested both hands on Tom's chest. "We agreed. No physical contact, no hugs, no kisses at work."

"I would like to review the terms of our agreement," he said as he kissed the sensitive junction between her neck and shoulder.

He was rewarded with a gasp as her hands gripped his coat as if she needed it to anchor her.

She felt his smile against her skin.

"You don't make it easy," she said, pushing him a few inches to hold his head in her hands and kiss him passionately as she felt his hands roaming over her body.

"Dad, I'm hungry," Sam shouted from outside the door.

He let out a frustrated groan.

A breathless laugh escaped her.

"Dad! May I come in?"

"See you in about an hour," he said, walking towards the door.

"I'll be waiting," she said.

He already has his hand on the doorknob when she called his name.

"Tom!"

He turns around and looks back at her

"That was not a surrender. Our agreement will be maintained."

A wolfish smile spread across Tom's face. "We'll see."

Challenging him was a dangerous game. But she had to admit to herself that she liked the result.

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"No," he said, in what seemed like the tenth time in five minutes.

There were five puppies in the barn; he had to agree that they were adorable. But dogs grow up, they need care, attention and discipline.

"But Dad, they are so cute," Ashley said, taking one of the puppies, "Look at those little eyes, they are begging to come with us."

Sam was sitting on the floor with a puppy on his lap while others tried to climb on him. "Please, Dad."

_Shit!_ One of them had just peed his shoe.

"This one is demarcating its territory," Rachel took the puppy, held it up against her bosom and stroked it gently. After a few minutes, she put it back on the ground.

"Which one do you like most?" Elena asked, trying to help the children.

"All of them," the siblings responded in unison.

"You can only take one puppy," Tom said, " We have talked about this and this is not negotiable, you two."

"You can visit when you want," Jake said, "We will maintain two puppies and their mother."

"Can we, Dad?"

"Of course."

"How about this one?" Sam asked, holding one of the puppies that had a warm caramel color

Ashley held the puppy up to her face, squealing as it licked her nose._ "_Hello, Sky," she said softly.

He barked at her, wagging his tail.

"I like him."

Tom breathed a sigh of relief.

After that, the children had fun riding horses, bathing in the river, playing with Duke. When they grew tired, they had a snack and were now taking a nap at the Evans' house. This gave him and Rachel a time alone. They decided to take a walk along the woods near the house.

He sat on the ground with his back against a tree trunk. He looked around at the landscape, calm and practically untouched by the chaos caused by the pandemic. Unfortunately, not everyone was safe.

"You are frowning again." Rachel said. "Worried about your mission?"

"I received a radio message from a community that has been isolated for months," he said, "They want to talk to me in person."

She knows that look. _He's worried about something._

"Why you?"

"The person knows me."

They have reason to be cautious. Two weeks ago, the Immunes had tried to sabotage a shipment of vaccines. The aim was to tamper with the vials so that the vaccine would become useless.

"Do you trust that person?"

"Yes, I trust her."

"Her?" she turned toward him fully and the hand on his chest stilled.

"Veronica Gillard."

"Wait!" Rachel exclaimed, "Your Veronica?"

He laughed. "She is not mine. But yes, we are talking about the same person."

"If you know her what worries you?"

"In a mission, there are always variables out of our control," he said, pulling her gently to his chest. "I'll be fine, Rachel, I promise." He kissed the top of her head.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound of his heartbeat, a steady, powerful, and comforting thump.

_Slowly, _she had told him. The problem is that after a few days, she had forgotten her own advice. Not only had she wet her feet in the ocean so to speak, she had dived headfirst.

Suddenly, an image floated before Rachel's eyes, a woman lying in her coffin, a rosary entwined through her fingers, her expression placid and calm as an angel. She blinked and the vision was gone, leaving in her wake a feeling of longing.

Unconsciously, she tightened her arms around his waist as if she could keep him safe.

"Hey, look at me," he said, waiting until Rachel reluctantly met his eyes. "Nothing bad is ever going to happen to me!"

She did not answer. Instead, she caressed his face, her fingers moving along his jaw.

She examined his face so intently that he felt exposed, not in a bad or uncomfortable way, but he wondered what she was seeing.

"What are you seeing?" He asks curiously.

"_I see you,_" she said quietly.

"And?" he asked.

_How could she explain it to him?_ _How could she tell him that she had just remembered her mother? In a coffin. How could she tell him that she feared losing him?_ _He was already tense with this mission; she does not want to be another burden on his shoulders._

"What does the military regulation say about a beard?"

This woman always managed to surprise him because it certainly was not the question he expected. "What? Any particular reason for your strange question?"

"Simple scientific curiosity."

"What does science have to do with it?"

"I have a hypothesis and to reach a conclusion I need to do some experiments," she said, her fingers still caressing his face. "And you didn't answer my question."

"Well, satisfying your curiosity. The manual says: The face shall be clean shaven unless a shaving waiver is authorized by the Commanding Officer."

"Good to know."

"What kind of experiment?" he insisted.

"Come back without any scratch," she ordered. "Then I'll tell you."

He cupped her face in his hands. His eyes held hers, the promise of all tomorrows shining in the blue depths and everything inside her calms down all at once.

"I'll come back for you, honey," he whispered, brushing his mouth against hers. "Always. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she said shakily.

Then his lips covered hers. She shivered when his hands slipped under her blouse to touch her bare skin. His fingers barely brushed against her breasts. Then he slid the hands down her back, his fingers following the curve of her spine. As he caressed her skin, her hands unbuttoned his coat. Once his coat was completely unbuttoned, she moved her hands under his shirt and caressed his skin, exploring the strong muscles.

Unnoticed by the two lovers, a person approached slowly, the footsteps muffled by the grassy path.

"I told Jake that it was not a good idea to let the kids look for you two," an amused voice sounded above them.

"Oh God!" Rachel groaned, instinctively hiding her face in Tom's shoulder before trying to get up.

He uttered a muffled expletive.

"No," he said, holding her. She could feel his erection against her belly. She moaned again and hid her flushed face in the collar of his shirt.

"We're going," Tom said, but none of them moved to get up from their position.

"Maybe you should cool down first," Elena said.

They could hear her laughing as she walked away.

"We have to stop doing this," Rachel said.

"Not a chance in hell," he said into her hair. He loves the way she purrs when he touches her, it's so sexy. "I like to do _this_ with you."

"Idiot!" She said, leaning on his chest to get up.

He also got up, trying to clean himself off from the lawn grass that stuck to his clothes. She also removed the dirt from the clothes and leaves that had stuck to her pants. Some of the buttons on her blouse had opened revealing her bra. _Shit! _She said, cursing under her breath.

"Black lace," Tom said while eyeing her revealed chest, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Tom..." She warned.

His smile widens.

_Alive. Whole. Healthy._ Suddenly an image replaces that one. An image of him bleeding.

"Rachel!" He called her name out loud.

She blinks as if coming out of a trance. _An omen or a memory,_ she wonders.

"What happened?" he asked.

She tries to smile at him. "It's nothing!"

"Don't lie to me, please," he said, holding her arms.

She took a deep breath. "You were bleeding."

"It may have been when you operated on me."

"It's possible. My memories are confusing, scrambled; it's a little scary without context," she admits.

She tries to close the buttons on her blouse, but her trembling fingers don't cooperate.

"Let me help you with those," he said, reaching out and gently closing the buttons on her blouse.

"Tom, I wanted to," Rachel began.

_I think I'm in love with you. But, I'm not ready yet._

Rachel swallowed so hard he could hear it.

"Tell me when I get back," his voice is low, soft and he looks at her with such intensity that she thinks he knows what she wants to say to him.

She took Tom's face in her hands and kissed him, hard and deep.

"When you come back," she said.

"Yes, and you need to rethink our agreement. I don't know if I can last five days without seeing you, much less touching you..I'm going to miss you so bad…" Tom murmured to her ear as he hugged her to his side as they started their walk back to the house.

"Tom! Get your mind off the gutter...just come back to safely first…" she stopped and told him in all seriousness.

Tom seeing her serious and worried demeanor hugged her tight and kissed her before murmuring, "Nothing can keep me away from you, honey."

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_We're waiting for your lovely review!_


	15. Welcome Back

**Author's Notes: Apologies for the delay in updating. Real life under Covid-19 got a bit in the way. We hope all of you are doing well and good. Enjoy this romantic and fluffy chapter**

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****Chapter 15 - Welcome Back****

"**I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine."**

When she thinks of Tom, she has more questions than answers. This very strong feeling of connection that she felt with him is not only physical attraction, but also something more… She'd tried. Oh, she had tried so hard. She pushed him away, but the man is too stubborn to give up..

She wanted him to be here now. She wanted the safety of his arms. Some of her memories found their way to the surface, making her feel restless.

"Can't sleep?" Jeter asked her.

It was not the first time that he found her sitting in that old armchair, a steaming cup in her hands, her eyes turned to the contours of the dimly lit garden.

"I can't calm my mind enough to sleep."

"Worried about him?"

"It's not just him who keeps me awake," she said offering him a weak smile.

"Did you dream again?" he asks, more as a statement than a question.

A few weeks ago, she had trusted him, telling him about the dream, the maze, the door that she couldn't open.

After taking a sip of her tea, she answered, "Yes, I feel that I am closer to discovering the truth."

"Did you manage to open the door?"

"Not this door, but I managed to open another one," she said.

"I thought there was only one."

"The door to other memories," she clarified. "I remembered my parents."

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked as he sat across from her.

"My mother died when I was a child." Her fingers curled around the warm cup. "The first memory I had of my mother was in a coffin. And the memories that came after were no better."

She was reliving mourning. Nothing he could say would ease her pain, but that didn't stop him from trying. "There must be fond memories of your mother in your memories."

"Yes, there are." Her eyes took on a misty, faraway look. "But in the end everything else became smaller in the face of my parents' beliefs."

Her shrug and tone were nonchalant, suggesting acceptance of a fact, but her eyes told a different story.

He didn't have enough information to have a complete picture of what had happened to her. But whatever had happened had left a lasting mark. Her parents hurt her or at least it was her perception. Something she still seemed to struggle to cope with.

Before he could say anything, she continued, "Malaria is a curable disease _if _treated correctly." She forces her voice to remain soft. "He did not allow her to receive treatment."

"Who?"

"Her husband….Reverend Stephen Scott is… was my father."

The pieces of the puzzle fit together with surprising clarity. The mother's death can be a severe blow to any child. The feeling of abandonment can be difficult to deal with. But having a safe and affectionate family environment can ease this blow. But apparently she felt abandoned and betrayed by both.

"Was?"

"I think he's dead now, but I'm not sure, "she said, "I've had very little contact, personal contact with him over the years. And what do I know about the pandemic…"

Softly he asked, "Do you blame him?"

"There were times when I wished him dead and then there were times when I just wanted my dad back. Sometimes I just wish I could talk to him. But that was impossible. He was no longer the same, and neither am I his little girl anymore."

She had moved away from her father both physically and emotionally.

"What would you say to him if you could talk to him?"

"I don't know, "she paused. "It was painful to be around him… but despite everything he was still my father."

"What is the best memory you have of him?"

"There are not many," she said.

"Try, please, just one," he said in a kind, almost fatherly voice.

She felt tears constrict her throat and she swallowed painfully. She doesn't just remember one, she has all those precious little things between father and daughter kept in memory.

She stood and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, helping herself to another cup of warm tea. She cradled her cup of tea between her hands, allowing the soothing scent to help center her thoughts and relax her nerves. Then she snuggled back into the comfortable armchair.

He waited until she took a sip of her tea to speak again.

"I'm sorry."

"You have a kind soul, Russ Jeter," she said, depositing the cup on the small table next to her armchair. "Some memories I have of him hurt not because they are bad, but because they are good… I don't know if I'm making any sense…."

Weeks after the death of his wife and daughters, he could not bear to look at the family photos.

"It makes perfect sense."

"He…. my father was a good storyteller. He did all the voices, you know, animals and monsters and things like that…"

He nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"He always ended up the same way, sleep well my… it was always a different name… Aziza, Johari, Isoke, Tsehai... it was a kind of a game, I should find out the meaning, it was a way of teaching me because with the names there were always other information."

"Clever." He said. "What do the names mean?"

"Tsehai, Sunshine (Ethiopia). Aziza, Swahili origin meaning powerful and beloved. The meaning of the name Isoke is a satisfying gift from God (Nigeria). Johari means Jewel and is of Swahili origin."

"He loved you."

"I know." Rachel closed her eyes for a moment, feeling somewhat better, somewhat relieved.

"I love Tom, but I didn't tell him, although I think he knows,"she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

He felt a tug on his heartstrings. Walls and thorns could not completely hide the soft heart kept inside.

"You are afraid," he said.

"Yes, I'm afraid, because I feel that what I need to remember is what separates me from him."

Looking at the mug in her hands, she didn't see the sudden strain in his face.

Her instincts were good. Her fear had a solid basis, although she didn't remember why. The death of a man had created an abyss between them. The love the two admitted to feeling had built a bridge between them again. He prayed it would be enough.

"Tom won't give up on you again."

"Again?"

"You came back from the dead, giving him a second chance. He knows you love horses couldn't keep him away."

She smiled.

"I hope he's okay," she murmured.

"He is able to take care of himself and he's not alone."

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It was a lazy Sunday morning. Trying to stop the constant stream of worries through her head, she decided that a run around the block could help her. After completing the third lap, she met Sam and Ashley walking their puppy.

"Good morning, children," Rachel greeted them.

"Good morning, Rachel," the children said in unison.

"You're both up early."

"Sky wouldn't let us sleep late," Sam said, after a big yawn.

"Grandpa said it's like having an infant at home," Ashley said.

"A very cute baby, aren't you, Sky?" Rachel said as she bent down and scratched the puppy's ears.

Sky barked and wagged his tail happily.

"Dad's back," Sam announced happily.

"When?" Rachel asked, getting up.

"Sam!" Ashley said reproachfully. "You weren't supposed to say anything."

"Oh!" He has that adoringly contrite expression that brings a smile to Rachel's lips.

"Don't tell Dad that I told you," Sam said before running after the dog that was entering the neighbor's garden.

Ashley looked at her brother, shaking her head, a slightly exasperated expression.

She turned back to Rachel. "Grandpa said Dad wanted to surprise you."

"I'll try to look properly surprised," Rachel replies, a small smile blooming on her face. _He kept his promise. He went back to her._ She had a promise to keep, too. Would she be brave enough to say in words what she has already said in other ways?

"How is he?"

"He arrived late at night; we haven't talked to him yet and…"

"He brought a girl with him." Sam said interrupting the sister, holding the squirming puppy wriggling in his arms. "They are sleeping, so we have to be quiet. Grandpa sent us for a walk with the dog."

_Not a girl, a woman,_ she corrected in thought. Veronica, his first love. She felt a twinge of jealousy.

"We must go back now," Ashley said and they both bid Rachel goodbye.

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* * *

Rachel has just finished dressing up after her quick shower when she heard a knock on the front door. With happiness suffusing her being, she felt like a giddy teenager with her date arriving. She knew it was most likely that Tom had come calling.

And she was not disappointed.

A bearded Tom in his BDUs, with a basket in one hand, was smiling at her.

There was a smirk on Tom's face, as she looked him up and down. She reached out to inspect a wound on his head, it didn't look serious, but she didn't like it anyway.

"You're injured!"

"Just a scratch."

"What did we talk about scratches?"

"Hey, I'm whole, with all parts of my body intact, "he said opening his arms to her.

"There is no hidden injury that I need to worry about right?" she asked with a frown.

He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her into him. "Hmm," he whispered. "I can prove that I am perfectly healthy." Rachel's heart fluttered and she couldn't help but smile. Then his other hand came up and his fingers tangled in her hair tilting her face to meet his kiss.

She responded hungrily, her lips opening for more, her body melted against him as he moaned her name and deepened the kiss.

Eventually he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, "I missed you so much," he whispered raggedly, his blue eyes focused on her.

"I missed you, too," she said. "Welcome home, Captain!"

He smiled.

In her lips, his rank assumed another meaning, something more intimate. She says 'Captain' with the softness of a lover.

"What is it?" she asked with a cute frown.

"You called me Captain. Again."

"Is that a problem?"

"On the contrary, I like it."

_We'll discuss this topic later,_ she promised herself, determined to decipher the reason behind his strangely smug expression.

Rachel looked at the basket that Tom had brought with him. "What's that?"

"I figured that we'd have breakfast together before I head towards HQ. And if I know you, you haven't had breakfast yet, have you? Food's still warm."

"No, you're right. No breakfast yet. Let's go sit down.

While Rachel went to the kitchen to gather their cutleries, Tom had taken out cheese, toasts, eggs, ham, spreads and grapes at the center table near the sofa.

Tom was eating grapes that Rachel fed him. They had finished their breakfast and Rachel was almost lying with her back on Tom's chest. Enjoying being back in each other's arms. Tom alternated between caressing her arms and thighs and kissing her neck. Currently, she was giggling while he was bestowing kisses on her neck.

"What's so funny?" he whispered.

Rachel reached out to him and caressed his beard-covered jaw and neck.

"Your beard. You didn't shave."

"Well, a beautiful doctor told me that she has a scientific curiosity to satisfy with my beard… I held off the razor while I was on mission…"

Rachel sat up and pivoted towards him. Sitting fully on his lap. He groaned as she held his face. She nuzzled up to him.

"I wanted to know how your beard would feel on my skin….." she confessed to him. "It looks so sexy on you and I love how it prickles my skin."

Tom growled and hauled her up to him for a fiery kiss. He ground Rachel on his lap. She can feel his growing hardness under her. Making her want to gyrate on him. She tore her mouth away from his but Tom continued his kisses on her neck. She yelped as she felt his hands on her breasts. Caressing them and their turgid peaks.

"Tom…" she moaned, "We can't...Beatrice's still upstairs..she might come down any time…" she put her hands on his chest to put some space between them.

He stilled with a long groan while holding her tightly in his arms. After a while, he put back his head on the sofa and tried to calm his raging libido. Rachel placed her head on his chest and her hand making soft strokes on his chest. "I'm sorry…" she apologized to Tom.

He placed a kiss on her head, "Ssshhh…. You have nothing to be sorry for… You know that I want you so much. Our current arrangement leaves much to be desired. And I have always told you that I will not give up having you in my arms."

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* * *

"How was your mission?" she asked after a few minutes of quiet between them.

His relaxed expression is replaced by tiredness and worry.

"Good and… bad."

"What happened?" she asked, sitting up to face him.

"Mike's family was there."

"Commander Slattery must be very happy."

"Things are not so simple; they lost a child to the pandemic. Christine, his wife, blames him for not being there when it happened."

"There is something more worrying you," she said gently.

Despite their efforts, people were still dying because of the pandemic. The assembled structure was not enough, vaccines were not getting where they were supposed to. The disorganization of planting, harvesting and transporting food were leaving people vulnerable to hunger. And in this chaos enemies were finding fertile ground to reproduce.

The Immunes were a bigger threat than they imagined. The intel that Veronica had provided told them that he and Rachel had a target painted on the back. It wasn't information he wanted her to know, eventually he would tell her, but not now. Now he just wanted to enjoy the feeling of having her in his arms again.

She waited while he seemed to struggle to find the right words to externalize what was bothering him.

"What we did is still not enough; people are dying because of the pandemic."

"Ah!" She says as if she understands his frustration. "That is expected with humanity on the verge of extinction, this would awaken the best in us. And I do not say that it is not correct in some cases, but the social inequality present in practically all countries kills the most vulnerable first."

"I know," he said, "But it's still frustrating as hell."

"The world is not going to change because of the pandemic, Tom. People are still going to die because of lack of clean water, food, shelter, wars, religious fanatics; the greatest plague in the world is us."

"Pessimistic."

"Realist," she countered.

He raised his hands in surrender, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

She sighed.

"Sorry," she said, "you didn't ask for a debate."

"Your diplomatic skills leave much to be desired." His words brought a strange feeling of déjà vu. "But…" he said with a smile in the low drawl of his voice. "I like your passion when defending something. It was one of the reasons that I was attracted to you."

"I wonder what attracted me to you, before."

He had a playful smile, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Well, that is a question that only you can answer, honey."

Rachel's expression turned thoughtful. She was absently stroking her fingertips in circles on his forearm. She loved this man so much that she feared the enormity of that feeling. She'd give anything and everything to keep him safe. _Did your mother love your father like that, as if she had waited for him all her life? _

"I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine," Rachel whispers under her breath.

"Hmm?"

"It was something my mother said to my father."

"Where did I hear that before?"

"Song of Solomon 2:16."

"Wait! Does that mean you remembered your parents?"

"I remembered my childhood."

"You okay?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He knew it was inevitable that some pain would accompany her memories.

"I was a little shaken by the experience," she admitted.

His arms enveloped her. She buried her face against his chest, accepting the comfort her arms offered. He ran his fingers over her hair, feeling her relax against him.

The times she had remembered something, there was always a kind of trigger. The visit to the cemetery, the music sung by Alisha, the car accident.

"What was the trigger this time?"

"Your mission," she said. "I was worried that you might get hurt." _Fear that you could be taken from me._ She swallowed past the lump in her throat and blinked against the tears so close to the surface. Damn it, she wasn't a woman who cried at anything and everything. But the thought of him dying fills her with anguish.

"I remembered my mother in a coffin," she said, her voice muffled.

"Jesus!" He said, hugging her tighter and kissing her forehead. Then he lifted her face to meet his solemn gaze. "I will always come back for you, I promise."

She believed him. She believed in the love she saw in his eyes. She believed that he would do whatever it takes so he could to keep his promise. Some say that love can make a person reckless; I prefer to believe that it makes us brave, her mother used to say.

_Be brave, dear._

He watched with avid interest, as she seemed to struggle with something, then she smiled at him, and somehow he knew she had come to a decision. Decision that would take their relationship to the next level.

"Good. Because I'm not willing to give up the man _I love_," she said, enunciating every syllable.

Surprise filled his eyes at her words, a slow smile spreading over his face. She had already given clues to how she felt about him. But hearing her say it was something totally different. He traced the contours of her face with his fingers, as if he wanted to memorize every detail.

"I love you, too," he whispered to her.

"I know," she pressed a quick, soft kiss on his mouth.

He chuckled.

He angled his head and covered her mouth with his as she grabbed the front of his uniform, tugging him closer.

Then they were surprised by a knock on the door.

She made an incoherent protest as he whispered against her hair. "I'm going to kill the bastard, slowly."

Although she did not consider herself a publicly demonstrative person, with him it was becoming a habit. It was becoming ridiculous the times when they had been caught in a compromising situation. They are acting like two teenagers who can't keep their hands off each other. When she thinks about it, there is a strange sense of pride that she is able to make him lose control so easily. The problem is that it had the same effect on her.

Another loud knock on the door indicated that the person outside was getting impatient.

"You will not kill anyone," she said, pressed her palms against Tom's chest, pushing him back while she disengaged herself from his arms and stood up.

"Don't be so sure," she thought she heard him whisper

He also stood up but he didn't look happy. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"No."

Jeter, Wolf and Miller had left shortly after she returned home. Bertrise was still in bed.

She opened the door with him hovering protectively behind her.

"Veronica! What are you doing here?"

Veronica had to admit she was curious. Curious about Dr. Rachel Scott. The woman who saved the world. But she has a perfectly valid excuse for showing up uninvited.

"Good morning to you, too, Tom," the beautiful brunette replied ironically.

_So this is Veronica. _He had not exaggerated; she was a very beautiful woman. She was tall, with almond-brown eyes, curly hair below her shoulders. And when she smiled. The woman had dimples.

Tom gave Rachel a long-suffering look. "Rachel, this is my friend Veronica Gillard."

"Nice meet you," Rachel said. She offered her hand which the other woman took enthusiastically.

"It's so nice to finally meet you. Tom here does not talk of anything else. Even asleep he speaks your name."

Two things simultaneously registered in Rachel's brain, that he spoke of her while sleeping and that Veronica was close enough to hear. She cut that line of thought quickly. When they are alone, she will interrogate him for explanation.

Tom and Rachel took a seat on the sofa while Veronica occupied the other armchair.

"He also talked about you, said something about you looking like an angel when he first saw you."

"The man always had a way with words," Veronica said with a smile.

Tom could see an alliance forming between the two women and he did not know if that made him happy or worried.

"Why did you come looking for me?" he asked.

"The meeting with the president was scheduled, and you didn't bring your phone."

"Shit!" He patted his pockets for his phone, and then remembered he had left it on the kitchen counter, after practically swallowing a cup of coffee that his father had forced him to drink.

Veronica had one of those magnetic personalities, a sincerity in the look, a contagious smile, it was impossible not to like her.

"You didn't forget the gun, right?"

He shook his head in agreement with her.

She asked casually, but something in the look they exchanged warned Rachel. _There's something going on._

"Why do you need to be armed here?"

"Precaution."

"Please, Tom, don't lie to me," she said, " I don't like the role of a damsel in distress."

"Believe me, I am well aware of that," he said, remembering when she helped save him from the hands of the Russians. _Talk about role reversal._

"She has a right to know, Tom."

"Tom!" Rachel pressed him.

He reluctantly offered the information. "We found out why the Immunes kidnapped you."

"It was never a secret. They wanted to kill me."

"No, they would forge your death, so no one would look for you." Veronica corrected her, "And then they would force you to reverse the process."

"When hell freezes over will I do something for those assholes."

"There are ways to make someone give in."

"The torture didn't work the first time."

Anger builds up in him, clouding his features.

_They had lost the element of surprise. The goal now was to kidnap the two. And use the love she felt for Tom to make her give in._

"I'm surrounded by soldiers, all ready to fight. Everyone is saying I'm safe here."

"You are," Tom said, his hands resting on her shoulders.

Veronica was watching her carefully now. "It's not enough, _isn't_ it?" she asked her.

Rachel shook her head. She hated leaving someone else in control, even if that person was Tom. "No. It's not enough. I need to be able to protect myself; I need to learn to fight."

"I can help you with that," she volunteered with a smile.

"I would like that."

"I can help, too," said Tom.

"Good, let them come." Rachel said, "They will regret leaving the hell they came from."

Veronica smiled. Tom has always been attracted to strong women. _It looks like he hasn't changed._

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* * *

Tom promised Veronica that he will join the scheduled meeting later with the President. Rachel got ready to leave for the medical center. Tom will drive her there himself.

"Honey, with the intel that we gathered from the Immunes from Veronica, you will have your usual bodyguards with you. Two at the minimum with about 4 others keeping a perimeter cover," Tom explained, "We….I cannot afford anything happening to you again."

"But, Tom…" Rachel started to protest, "Isn't that too much? This base is safe and secure...you told me as such…"

"Rach, honey, that is generally true. But I do not like to take chances with your safety or your life. I trust my men and women from the James, but the other personnel in this base are unknown to me. So, please, bear with me on this one." He gathered her in his arms, swaying them from side to side.

She sighed as she wrapped her arms around him. "You really have to start training me."

This time it was him who sighed. "Yes, that seems to be inevitable. We can start later today for you to handle a gun and shoot. With your brilliance, you'll have that down to a pat in no time at all."

She looked up at him with a small smile. "Veronica and Alisha can probably teach me self-defense moves and how to strengthen myself."

Tom looked at her with something like pride in his eyes. He also smiled at her offer.

"And Tex…"

He frowned deeply at her, "Tex? What has he got to do with your training? I can teach you everything," he groused.

"Are you jealous?" she teased.

"Me? Why the hell will I feel jealous over Tex?" he exclaimed, defending himself.

"Well, you have to explain to me why Veronica heard you talking in your sleep and mentioning my name? Care to explain that?" she asked archly, with her arms folded in front of her.

Tom immediately put up both his hands in front of him in a gesture of surrender. "Nothing happened, honey! I swear! We arrived late last night and accommodations for Veronica were not yet ready. I offered her my bed…"

"Do you make it a habit to offer your bed to every woman you take home with you?" she cut him, giving him a gimlet eye.

"No! Of course, not!" he exclaimed in alarm. "Honey, you're the first woman who has slept on my bed in my house! Veronica refused my bed and instead settled on the sofa. I couldn't convince her otherwise. Ask my Dad if you don't believe me."

Rachel felt satisfaction at his explanation. But she continued with her gimlet eye at him.

"So how did she know that you spoke my name in your sleep?"

Tom swallowed. "I don't know. You have to ask her that yourself."

Rachel remained quiet. Letting him stew a bit more.

"Baby...please believe me, I'd never been with any woman since I met you onboard the James...and now that you've given me a second chance, I will not waste that..you're everything to me. I love you, so much!" Tom pleaded with her.

Rachel smiled at him and moved to his arms. Her arms went around his neck.

"I love you, too, my Captain!" she whispered. "I believe you. We'll ask Veronica together that question. I was letting you stew a bit…."

"You minx!" Tom whispered with a smile, bringing her closer and kissing her softly.

"I had to make sure, you know. You being away on a mission to meet with your first love….who knows what could have happened…"

"First crush, honey. Just a childhood crush..and you needn't have worried. Veronica only sees me as a friend."

After sharing a few more kisses and locking up, they headed out towards the base's center.

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